Trigger Happy 23
by Mackiecam
Summary: What do bananas, a crazed stalker, a mob member, a rapist and a wife beater have in common? They are all being chased by Stephanie in this continuation from "22 Caliber" (published on this site). Join Stephanie's madcap adventures as she rids Trenton of bad guys.
1. Chapter 1

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 31

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

**Chapter One**

Pete Brodie was out tending his garden. It had rained hard earlier in the day and the garden beds were more mud than dirt. Brodie was out planting anyway.

"Isn't it too wet to plant flowers?" I asked Lula, my sometimes assistant.

"What do I know? We didn't have no flowers in the crack houses where I grew up. The closest we got was when someone opened a grow op, and those plants grew indoors under lights rather than outside. And anyway, does it matter? It's not like he'll be able to tend his flowers when he goes to jail", Lula pointed out.

An airline pilot, Brodie was arrested for assault when he threw hot coffee in the face of a barista at his local coffee shop. This had resulted in first and second degree burns to the barista's face, chest and upper arms. Instead of waiting in jail, Brodie chose to make bond using a bondsman. He then failed to show up for court, resulting in a need for a bounty hunter – that's me – to pick him up to reschedule his court date.

And now he was outside, calmly planting flowers in the mud lining the walkway from his driveway to his house.

"He don't look like no assaulter", said Lula. "He looks like a Tom Thumb. Wasn't he good at gardening?"

"No, Tom Thumb was little. You have a green thumb if you are good at gardening."

"Hunh. He's not little, and I'm not sure how good at gardening he is if he thinks planting flowers in this slop will work."

Lula and I got out of the car and walked up to Brodie. "Bond enforcement", I said. "You missed your court date and need to come with us to reschedule".

"I'm not going to reschedule. I'm not going to jail", he said. I reached down with my cuffs to snag his wrist, but before I could snap them on he took a couple of handfuls of mud and threw them in my face. I jumped back, but not fast enough. I still got dirt in one of my eyes. My eye was watering, I was stumbling around and swearing, and Brodie got up and ran to his car, hopped in and drove away. My name is Stephanie Plum, and I get a lot of mud in my eye. Figuratively speaking.

"Did you see that?" Lula asked. "He was looking all peaceful, planting his flowers and then WHAM! You've got dirt in your eye. You've got such bad luck. At least I didn't get mud in my eye. And you've got it all over your shirt. I'm glad I didn't get it on my shirt. This shirt is dry-clean only. It's the sequins, you know."

Lula is a former 'ho whose wardrobe hasn't kept up with her change in profession. She regularly tests the limit of spandex, and glitter and animal prints are her favourite fabrics. If the glitter can be combined with the animal print, all the better. Her skin is the colour of a chocolate milkshake, her hair regularly changes colour to match her clothes, and her personality is as vibrant as her hair.

If Lula was a chocolate milkshake, I am more of a vanilla one. Half Italian and half Hungarian, I have shoulder-length brown curly hair typically pulled back into a ponytail, blue eyes and a cute little nose I inherited from my Hungarian grandmother. I try not to wear dry-clean only clothes and am most comfortable in a stretchy t-shirt and jeans.

Squinting through the one eye that wasn't affected by the mud, I looked down at my shirt. "Damn", I said. "I hope this mud comes out. This is my favourite shirt. It's a genuine knock-off Tommy Hilfiger." I handed Lula the keys to Ranger's Cayenne.

Ranger, aka Carlos Ricardo Manosa, is my one-time mentor, good friend and, for a couple of memorable times, my lover. Former Special Forces, Ranger is a part-owner of an ultra-elite security company that rivals the Pentagon in technology and defense. Over the years I have seen him morph from a tough street fighter to a tough but sophisticated business owner. If I'm a vanilla milkshake, Ranger is a caramel latte, mysterious and full-bodied. His Cuban-American roots have given him dark brown hair and intense brown eyes that dilate to black when aroused. His hard body is indicative of the self-discipline that defines him. He is a man that smiles rarely, talks minimally, and shares little.

There have been times in the past when I have had car problems, and Ranger has lent me the use of one of his cars. It is either that or borrow my Uncle Sandor's '53 Buick that my parents keep in their garage for car emergencies. Neither option makes me feel good. The Buick is a gas-guzzling behemoth in which it is impossible to be stealthy. It corners like a tank and drives like a mattress. However, it means I don't have to borrow a car from Ranger. Borrowing a car from Ranger always makes me wonder what I will have to do to pay Ranger back. Not that anything I would do with Ranger would necessarily be a bad thing, but it is a little unnerving to not know. Unfortunately for me, borrowing cars happens more frequently than I would like. I have a history of explosions, theft and vandalism.

"Can you drive? My eye's still watering", I asked.

"Sure. When are you going to get your own car? Not that this car isn't a good one. It's a fine car. What did you say you were going to do in return?" she asked.

"I didn't say, because I don't know. And I'll get a car as soon as I have a chance to find a suitable one."

"I don't know if I would want to be indebted to Ranger. Not that it wouldn't be fabulous to have to pay him back, though. He's a fine looking man. In fact, he's the hottest looking man I ever did see. But it's the not knowing that would get to me. I like things straight out. You see what I'm sayin'?"

We got in the car and headed back to the office. Lula and I work for Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. Lula is the file clerk and often provides back-up to me; I am a fugitive apprehension agent aka bond enforcement agent aka bounty hunter. When people are arrested they can either wait for their court date in jail, or they can pay a bond and be allowed to live their lives normally until their court date arrives. When they show up at court, their bond is returned.

For those who don't want to wait in jail but who don't have the money to pay their bond, they can use the services of a bondsman. This bondsman will pay the bond for the fee of fifteen percent of the bond value and the exchange of collateral. When the felon goes to court they get their collateral back but not the fifteen percent.

When a person who uses a bondsman fails to show for court, the bondsman is out the price of the bond. This doesn't make the bondsman happy. So the bondsman hires a bounty hunter to retrieve the felon and return them back into the system, thereby getting the bond back from the courts. For this, the bounty hunter – me – gets ten percent of the bond and the bondsman retains the remaining five percent. I don't get a base salary though, so if I don't bring in any felons, I don't get paid. And I needed to get paid. I needed to buy a new car.

This meant I was pretty bummed about not picking up Brodie. Due to increased flight risk, the pilot had a high bond and would have netted me a significant amount of money. And my favourite t-shirt stained and mud in my eye weren't helping with eradicating my general bad mood. I dropped off Lula at the office and drove home.

Home for me is a low-budget, one-bedroom apartment in a three-story building characterized by 1970's décor and appliances. It is low on landscaping and high on utilitarianism, but it has an elevator and plenty of parking spots. Residents are primarily seniors, with the odd newly-wed couple or single non-retired person thrown in. It may not be luxurious, but I like it.

My apartment faces the parking lot, which lets me see if there are any lights on in my apartment when I get home. Today they were on, meaning I had company. This could be one of two people – Ranger, or my boyfriend Joe Morelli. I had given a key to Morelli a while ago; Ranger doesn't need a key. He can get in anywhere, anytime.

I took the elevator up to the second floor and walked down to my apartment. I opened the door and heard the paws of Bob, Morelli's big, orange, shaggy-haired beast that is part golden retriever, part Sasquatch, pounding the floor as he ran across the living room trying to get to me.

"Sit!" I said forcefully. Bob sat, tail frantically swishing across the floor. I was surprised. He had never followed that command before. I looked at Morelli, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, this last round of obedience lessons seems to be working a bit. I guess the sixth time is the charm". He looked at me and raised his own eyebrows. "You look like you've been rolling in the mud, and your eye is all red. You okay, Cupcake?"

"Yeah. A skip threw mud in my eye."

"Did you get him?"

"No", I said in disgust. Morelli smiled. He was well familiar with my ineptitude.

A Trenton cop working in the Crimes Against Persons department, Morelli had no such ineptitude. He was overly dedicated to his job and was good at it. He was also good at being a boyfriend. Six feet tall with a hard body, brown hair perpetually needing a cut, and heart-melting brown eyes, he was kind, had a good sense of humour, was a good dog-father, and was a wonderfully satisfying and fun lover. Morelli and I have a long history, starting with playing choo-choo – I was the tunnel – when I was six, moving to giving him my virginity when I was sixteen, to becoming my on-again, off-again boyfriend in my late twenties. We have come a long way in our relationship since I was six. We have weathered some rocky patches and now acknowledge that we love each other, but are each happy with the status quo and are even hesitant to formalize what we have by labelling each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. Despite family trying to push us into marriage, we have been able to avoid that level of commitment with each other so far. I periodically think about what it would be like to be married to Morelli, but I have trouble envisioning it. At this point, I like having my own space and freedom too much.

"Did you remember we are expected at your parents for dinner?" Morelli asked. "I've already fed and walked Bob".

"Damn. No. Just give me a few minutes to shower to get all the mud out of my hair."

"Do you need help? I could rinse your eye for you." Morelli smiled and pulled out the neckline of my shirt to look down at my assets.

"No. I think this better be solo showering or we will never make it for dinner". Dinner at my parents is precisely at six o'clock. Being late meant you were holding up dinner. Even five minutes late meant a pot roast declared too dry, cabbage rolls too mushy, or pasta too soft and sticky. It also meant my mother would be imagining all sorts of dreadful reasons for the lateness – the most common reason that you had been killed. For everyone's sake, being late is something to be avoided at all costs.

"I could be fast", Morelli offered.

"Enticing – but no", I said with a mock grimace. "Perhaps I could take a rain check – just not on the fastness part?"

Quickly having a shower, I pulled my wet hair back into a ponytail and changed into clean clothes. I was ready fifteen minutes before dinner. Since it takes ten minutes to drive from my apartment to my parents' house, we had five minutes to spare. I wouldn't have to ask Morelli to use his Kojak light today.

My parents live in the Burg, the Italian section of Trenton where Morelli and I grew up. Comprised of several bars, a few social clubs, two funeral parlours, two grocery stores and a number of mom-and-pop type of businesses, Burg residents are an insular bunch. Gossip is rife and family is key. Morelli and I each live just outside the Burg, but once a Burgite, always a Burgite. I have learned it is impossible to ever truly leave the community.

We drove up and parked at the curb. My sister Valerie's car was there as well, so this meant that Valerie, her husband Albert, and her four kids would be joining us for dinner. A full house for my mom. She would love it. It also meant I would be hearing about providing grandkids in the near future once again.

My parents live in the right hand side of a duplex on a quiet street. It is a modest house with a living room, dining room, and kitchen on the main floor and three small bedrooms and a bathroom on the upper floor. Yellow siding on the top and brown siding on the bottom, with daffodils and tulips poking out of the tiny garden in front of the small covered porch. Individually, the house doesn't look so bad. When combined with the lime-green house next door, however, it looked like a train wreck. But it's my train wreck and I love it. It has been, and will always be, a safe haven where nothing ever changes.

My grandmother was waiting at the front door. Grandma Mazur moved in with my parents a few years ago, when Grandpa Mazur started pushing up the daisies in the big florist shop in the sky. It is an arrangement that mostly seems to suit both my mother and my grandmother, but not my father. My grandmother and father don't really get along and just tolerate each other for the sake of family harmony. My mother quietly got rid of my dad's gun when Grandma Mazur moved in. It's a decision she has been thankful for many times since.

Grandma is seventy going on seventeen in mind, and seventy going on ninety in body. Her body is slack as only an older person can get, and all her wrinkles make you think she could use a good ironing. Her mind is still nimble where her body is not, though, and she remains curious about everything life has to offer. Unlike my mother, she is starved for excitement, but like my mother she lives for Burg gossip.

She called out to everyone that we were there. "Hurry up", my grandmother said. "Dinner's in four minutes and drinks still need to be poured." Valerie and I hustled to get milk, water and wine while my mother removed the lasagne from the oven and Grandma poured the extra red sauce into the gravy boat. Dinner was on the table with one minute to spare.

I supervised getting the kids' hands washed while Valerie put the baby in the high chair. The men came in from watching TV. We sat down and started to dish up the lasagne and pass the red sauce. My father was served the first piece and waited white-knuckled and salivating, fork and knife in hand, for everyone else to be served. As the last piece was dished out it was like a starting bell went off, with everyone digging in, focused on scarfing down their dinner as fast as they possibly could.

My grandmother looked at me. "Your eye is all red. What did you do to it? Did you poke your eye with your mascara wand? I hate it when that happens." she said.

"No, I was chasing a skip and he threw mud in it", I replied.

"Mud in it?" my mother cried. "You better be careful with that. Myra Moneski got mud in her eye when she was gardening and she got an eye infection. She's dead now, God rest her soul". My mother crossed herself. Everyone at the table followed suit, saying "God rest her soul".

"Yeah, but she didn't die of an eye infection. Didn't she die of a heart attack?" I asked.

"Yes, but you can never be too careful."

"Told you I should have rinsed your eye, Cupcake", Morelli whispered in my ear as he slid his hand up my thigh. I gave him a dirty look and he smiled.

I turned to the girls and asked them how school was going. Having finished her dinner, Angie sat, hands primly folded in her lap, waiting quietly for dessert. "Fine, thank you, Aunt Stephanie", she replied.

"I don't like school", her younger sister Mary Alice said. "They don't teach you anything useful", and she whinnied. For some time now Mary Alice has believed she is a horse.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Like, in math." She whinnied again. "What do I care about how big the area of a triangle is inside if I know the length of the three sides?" There was silence at the table.

"Well, I guess you could use the area to figure you how big a horse's pen would be, and if it would be big enough for one horse or two", Grandma said.

"I didn't think of that", said Mary Alice. I was glad Grandma had come up with a reason. I, too, didn't see the point in knowing how to calculate the area and I didn't want to tell her but I have never had to do so since leaving school.

Lasagne finished, we moved on to dessert, in my opinion the best part of a meal. I love dessert. All dessert. Chocolate cake, rice pudding with cinnamon, pineapple upside down cake with whipped cream, ice cream with Vienna cookies, chocolate chip cookies, vanilla pudding, it all brings a smile to my face. Mom had made banana cream pie, one of my favourites. I had two pieces. Pushing away from the table, Valerie and Albert took the kids home for baths and bedtime; Morelli sat with my father to watch the ball game; and I cleaned up the kitchen with my mother and grandmother. When all the dishes were washed and put away, the tablecloth changed and the floor swept, Morelli and I went back to my place, taking with us a doggie bag from my mom. The doggie bag contained a slab of leftover lasagne, the last piece of banana cream pie, a dozen oatmeal raisin cookies, half a loaf of Italian bread, a pound of shaved ham, a half-pound of Swiss cheese, and an apple.

I entered my apartment, hearing Bob come running towards me. I yelled "stop", but he kept on coming, tackling me and pushing me back into Morelli. Like dominoes, I pushed Morelli back into the front door. "I guess he doesn't know that command yet", I said to Morelli. I held the doggie bag in the air. Bob licked my arms enthusiastically, jumping up and down, trying to get to the hand holding the doggie bag. Just before Bob had a chance to sink his teeth into the bag, Morelli grabbed it and held it even higher as he walked to the kitchen, Bob continuing to hop up and down behind him as he followed Morelli – and the bag – to the fridge.

I also went into the kitchen. "Hello, Rex", I said to my hamster's butt. His head was stuffed in his soup can. I don't think he knew – or cared – that he wasn't completely in his hidey-hole. I changed his water and gave Rex some hamster crunchies. I dropped a piece of apple into his food bowl. Rex backed out of his soup can and scurried over to the apple. He shoved the apple into his cheek, vibrating with excitement, before he dove back into his soup can. An exciting Friday night for Rex.

I grabbed a beer each for Morelli and me, and played back the messages on my answering machine. Three hang-ups, two heavy breathers and one offer for a free cruise. Morelli listened at the same time. "Do you know who the heavy breather is?" he asked.

"No idea. I don't recognize the breathing." I smiled. "Do you want to watch the rest of the game, or what?"

"Or what", Morelli answered with a slow smile. "The breathing is giving me ideas". And then he gave me a kiss that had my hair smoking and my toes curling. His hand slipped up under the hem of my shirt and I was lost. We shucked our clothes even before we got to the bedroom.

The next morning, over coffee, Morelli and I reviewed our upcoming day. Despite that it was Saturday and Morelli not scheduled for a shift, he was going into the office to catch up on paperwork. On my side, the bonds office is open a half day on Saturday. As a bounty hunter I have a bit more flexibility regarding when I work, but I often find weekends to be a better time to find skips as, like evenings, skips are often at home. It is quite common for me to work both days on the weekend, as well as evenings during the week. In truth, I never really stop working; I am always scanning faces wherever I go.

I went to the office, getting there before Lula but after Connie. Connie Rosolli is the office manager. With dark brown curly hair and brown eyes, Connie is one hundred percent Italian and she's got the Mediterranean hourglass figure and the fine dark brown mustache to prove it. Related to half the New Jersey arm of the mob, she is tougher, more connected, and a better shot than me. She is a good person to have on your side, and I consider her to be a good friend.

Today Connie was looking a little wild-eyed. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I need to talk to you, but I can't talk here", she replied. "Vinnie has the office bugged again, and I don't think I have found them all yet." Vinnie is the namesake of the bonds office and is my cousin. He is a boil on the backside of the Plum family and we generally don't own up to knowing him, let alone being related to him. He is a weasel of a man with the boneless features of a ferret, and his greased-back hair, tight clothes, multiple gold necklaces and pointy shoes make his 5'6" height look more like a pimp than a business owner. While he does write bond for the office, he spends most of his time on internet gambling sites, porn channels and meeting with various sexual partners. Despite his shortcomings, or perhaps because of them, he is a good bondsman and can understand the psyche of the depraved.

The bonds office is owned by Vinnie's father-in-law, Harry the Hammer, a former mob enforcer. With the constant threat that Harry could pull the funding for the office and shut down the business if he didn't agree with Vinnie's life choices, this meant Harry had Vinnie's nuts in a vise. By association, this meant Lucille, Vinnie's wife, also had hold of Vinnie's nuts. This doesn't make for a very comfortable situation for Vinnie, but it is one that doesn't seem to faze him too much. Despite the constant threat, he still continues to have frequent barnyard sex.

Vinnie is known to bug the office, and has security cameras focused on the outer office where Connie sits and Lula files. We know of his practices, however, and work around this invasion in our privacy. We are just glad there are no security cameras in the washrooms. That seems like the kind of thing Vinnie would do.

"Will you be home this afternoon, after the office closes?" Connie asked.

"I can be", I replied.

"Okay, I will meet you at your apartment at two o'clock. And can you please keep it quiet?"

My curiosity was definitely peaked. I agreed to keep it a secret from Vinnie. I guessed that keeping it quiet meant not telling Lula as well. Lula couldn't keep a secret if her life depended upon it. No matter how much you may want Lula to keep quiet, it will just not happen. I kept my curiosity to myself as Lula walked in the door.

"Hey, girl, how's it hanging?" Lula said.

"Good", I answered. "Are you ready to go catch some skips?"

"Let's see. You look like you're in a good mood. That means that you probably got some last night. Did you? Because if you didn't I'm not going chasing after skips with you. You are Miss Cranky-Pants when you don't get any."

I just smiled. Getting some didn't accurately describe the extent of my evening. And nighttime. And morning. Morelli is a brilliantly gratifying lover. I always leave with a smile on my face after "getting some" with him. If a lack of sex causes me to be in a bad mood, there will be no danger of me being a cranky-pants today.

"I recognize that smile", Lula said. "Okay, let's go looking for skips."

I started to leaf through my pile of files. "We've got an identity theft, a robbery and a driving under the influence in addition to the pilot and his assault from yesterday. The assault, as you know, is a high bond. The identity theft carries a medium bond, and the robbery and DUI are low bonds. Does anything stick out at you as being good?"

"Let's do the DUI later. A Saturday morning, after the Friday night parties, might not be the best time. They will be more likely to come with us when they are less hung over." I couldn't agree more with Lula's suggestion. Hung over skips are usually argumentative and abusive. "The fact the robbery is only a low bond means the robber is probably pretty stupid and has likely just missed his court date. Let's go after him".

"Okay", I agreed. I looked over his file and started to laugh. "It says here that Michael Minetti, age 23, robbed a bank with a banana in his pocket. He told everyone that it was a gun. The only problem was that the security guard in the bank was a little trigger happy and believed Minetti, shooting his arm in an effort to subdue him. The security guard then tackled the injured Minetti, squishing the banana in the process. This guy doesn't seem too smart. I think it's a good idea to go after him first. Do you want to take Ranger's car?"

"Sure. When did you say you were going to look for a new car?" Lula asked.

"Tomorrow."

"That's good. I'm free tomorrow. I love car shopping. Just tell me the time and I will go with you. I don't even have any honeys staying over tonight, so I can be ready bright and early. Say noon?" We made arrangements to meet at my apartment at noon.

I looked over the Minetti file again. Minetti worked at the copy shop on Broad. I phoned the store and asked if Minetti was working today. They confirmed he was. Lula and I got in the car and motored over to the copy shop. Entering the store, we recognized Minetti right away. He was the gangly guy who looked more like a young teenager than a twenties-something man, with his arm in a sling. His hair was long and greasy, and his red-eyes showed remnants of the night before. I went up to him and introduced myself. "Hi", I said. "My name is Stephanie Plum and I represent your bail bonds office. You have missed your court date and I am here to take you into the station to get your date rescheduled."

"But I don't want to get rescheduled. I don't want to go to jail", and Minetti turned his back on us and walked away, back to the rear of the store. I called Minetti, asking him to come back, and started to follow him back behind the counter. The manager came out of his office to talk to me.

"Excuse me? Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No", I said. "It's just that Michael has missed his court date and we need to take him in to get rescheduled. That will not be a problem, is it?"

"No", he answered. "You can take him right away. I always try to cooperate with the police." I didn't want to tell him we weren't police. After all, it's not like I told him that we _were_ the police. I can't help it if he assumed that. And that assumption seemed to be buying us some cooperation with him.

I called out Minetti's name. There was no response. I called out again. There was still no response. I looked at the manager. He walked to the back of the store and looked in the office and the storeroom. "He's not here", he called out.

"Damn", I cried out. "We have a runner". Lula and I ran out of the store and stood on the sidewalk looking around. "You look here. I will look at the back of the strip plaza." I ran around the end of the stores but by the time I got there I could not see anybody. Minetti had flown the coop.

I walked back to the front of the store. Lula was sitting on the curb. "I didn't see anything", she said. I didn't bother pointing out to her that she wouldn't see anything from the vantage point of the curb anyway. Minetti had disappeared no matter where we sat or watched for him.

I trudged back into the store and spoke to the manager again. I gave him my card and asked him to call if Minetti showed up for work again. And I asked him when his next shift was, confirming it was the nine to five shift on Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the upcoming week . I didn't feel it was worthwhile to stake out the copy shop. I didn't think Minetti would be back to the store that day.

Lula and I drove to Minetti's home. Living with his parents, Minetti lived just outside the Burg in a run-down single-detached house. We went and knocked on the door and asked his mom for Michael. "I think he's at work right now", she replied. "You aren't another banana salesman, are you? There are only so many bananas that we can eat, you know."

"No, I actually represent his bondsman. He missed his court date and needs to go back to court to reschedule".

"Do you want some bananas to take with you then? Ever since Michael held up that bank we have had boxes and boxes of bananas given to us by banana growers. I have never seen so many bananas in such a short period of time. My family, and all our friends are getting tired of bananas. And I can't keep up with eating them. I have been making banana bread and banana muffins and banana cake continually, and my freezer is now filled with baked goods. I have enough to last me for the next year. Do you want some banana bread to go with the bananas? Please take some. I'm begging you."

Lula and I thanked Mrs. Minetti, taking away a loaf of banana bread, a dozen banana muffins and a bunch of bananas each. We also took away the promise that she would call if and when Michael came home.

"I have an appointment to get my hair coloured this afternoon", said Lula. "I need to get dropped off at the office so I can get my car."

"What colour will you get this time?" I asked, eyeing her current canary yellow hair. It didn't look to me like it needed to be coloured, but what do I know?

"I don't know. I'm wondering about pink, or maybe putting in orange streaks. I've got a new orange top I want to match. I need to talk to my colourist."

"Well, good luck with that". I dropped Lula off at her car and went home. I drove into the parking lot, parking as far away from the disabled parking spaces as I could. The disabled parking was located close to the building, and amongst the other disabled the visually impaired try to snag those spots as soon as they open up. I have found that my car gets significantly fewer scrapes in the paint the farther away from the building I park. And since I was driving a borrowed car, I had additional incentive to not get my car scraped.

I walked into the building and over to the stairs. However, when the elevator doors opened up and Mrs. Bestler sang out "first floor, going up", I decided to play along. Mrs. Bestler gets bored and often fills her time playing elevator attendant. I got in the elevator, telling Mrs. Bestler I would like to go to the second floor. I talked about the weather with Mrs. Bestler until we got to my stop, at which point she sang out "second floor, ladies' lingerie and better dresses". I smiled, wished Mrs. Bestler a good day, and walked down to my apartment. Opening the door, I listened before I entered. All seemed quiet. I entered and shut the door, walking into the kitchen to say hello to Rex. He seemed to be in fine form, sleeping in his soup can with his butt stuck out.

I made myself a ham and Swiss sandwich on Italian bread. I sniffed the orange juice in the fridge. It smelled okay, so I poured myself a glass. Taking my feast into the living room, I sat on the couch and turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels, I ate my sandwich and drank my juice. By the time I finished my lunch I decided there was nothing good on the boob tube to watch. I turned off the TV and went into the kitchen to do the dishes. On the way past the answering machine, I listened to the messages. There were three more mouth breathers, one credit card offer and a person selling new windows and doors. I deleted the messages. Nothing of importance there.

I washed the dishes and started to do some weekly cleaning before Connie came. I cleaned out Rex's cage, putting him in the tub while I threw out his soup can and bedding and cleaned the cage. I gave him fresh bedding, a new soup can, and new hamster crunchies and water. I returned him to his cage and put him back in the kitchen. Then, using a bleach spray, I cleaned the tiles and tub area. A knock interrupted my cleaning. Connie had arrived.

I let Connie in and closed the door. She walked over to the couch, not sitting but pacing in front of it. I brought a plate of banana muffins out which I held out to Connie, and offered her a cup of coffee. Connie declined both. "What's up?" I asked as I put the muffin plate on the coffee table. Connie was always so calm, it was disturbing to see her so wound up.

"You know my cousin Paulo?" she asked. "He was arrested for running numbers a few weeks ago."

"Okay." I hadn't known that, but that was nothing new. I didn't know much about what happens at the bond end of things. I didn't come into the loop until after people have skipped their court date.

"Well," she took a deep breath, "he arranged bail through our office." No surprise there. I still couldn't see why Connie was so worked up. "I arranged bail for him. It was a high bond since it wasn't his first infraction." She took another deep breath. "I let him procure the bond using his TV as collateral." Now I was starting to see what had Connie panicked. It was bad bond. The collateral would not cover the bond value.

"Let me guess – he didn't show up for court?"

"No. And no one knows where he is. I have talked to all my relatives, and no one has seen him. This is bad. This is really bad. If Vinnie finds out, I could lose my job." She took another deep breath and finally sat down, taking a muffin off the plate. "It is time for me to transfer the file over to you anyway, but I wanted to let you know the background on it and to ask you to be quiet in front of Vinnie about it. I am hoping it will fly under the radar and he will never know what I did. It's not like I do this all the time. It's just that Paulo is my favourite cousin, you know how it is. I will continue to work the family angle, but if you could work whatever angles you can find I would greatly appreciate it."

"Sure, Connie. I'll do whatever I can. I'll have to tell Lula, though, since she will probably be helping me search for him. I just won't tell her about the collateral issue. That okay with you?"

"Sure. Thanks for keeping this quiet and for understanding why I need you to work fast on this file."

"No problem." I showed Connie out and went back to my cleaning. I used the bleach spray to clean the bathroom sink and the counters, and swished around toilet cleaner and used a bleach wipe to clean the toilet. I wiped down all the counters and appliances in the kitchen, and dusted my meager furnishings. I tidied the books and magazines and vacuumed the carpets. Finally, I mopped the floors, all the while thinking about Connie's problem. I wasn't any closer to the solution when I finished the cleaning, so I went and fell back on the bed, covering my face with my pillow, assuming my favourite thinking position. This position is very similar to my napping position, and my brain got confused this time. I woke up as the pillow was lifted up off my head. As my eyes focused in the light I saw Ranger looking down at me.

"Thinking or napping, Babe?" he asked. Ranger is well familiar with my favourite thinking position.

"Both, apparently. It started out as thinking and progressed to napping", I said.

"What are you thinking about?" I told him about Connie's predicament. He listened all the way to the end, doing some thinking himself.

"It's just I'm not sure what I can do if Connie has already tried the family. I want to help but I am at a loss as to what I should do next." I concluded. "What would you do?"

"I would talk to all the family members again, pulling out the fact that Connie is will lose her job if Paulo isn't found. You can't use the threat that the collateral will be lost like you normally would, but you can use the fact that Connie will lose her job. Paulo has multiple properties in Trenton. I would check each of those, too. And I would check the shore. Paulo was running numbers here in Trenton, but he had another operation in Point Pleasant. He probably has a house or something there." He continued. "I would like to stay and help you with this, Babe, but I will be out of the country for a while. I am going up to Canada to pick up a skip and am not scheduled to come back for a few days. If you need anything when I am gone, call Tank. And let Tank know if you need to use any of our search engines for researching Paulo." Tank is Ranger's right-hand man and is another good person to have on your side. Also former Special Forces, he is extremely loyal to Ranger.

Ranger gave me a kiss that sent a warmth down into my nether regions, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss before pulling away and looking at me regretfully. "Tank is waiting for me in the parking lot. I have to go." Probably a good thing. Sometimes with Ranger it was hard to remember I had an understanding with Morelli. Ranger gave me a gentle tug on my ponytail, gave me another quick kiss, and left the apartment.

I decided I probably would not do any more napping that afternoon, so I went to my computer and started to run some searches on Paulo. After several hours I had the names and contact information for most of his extended family, and the addresses to half a dozen businesses and rental properties. What I didn't have were the addresses to any properties on the shore, or the name of any potential holding companies. I decided I would follow up the leads on Monday, as the next day I would be looking for a new car.


	2. Chapter 2

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 27

**Chapter Two **

I woke up on Sunday and thought about attending church. But like every other Sunday, I felt guilty about not going for only as long as it took me to fall back to sleep. When I woke again, I found that it was too late to go to church. After promising to God and myself I would go the next week, I no longer felt guilty. That is the weekly pattern I set shortly after moving out of my parents' house. It is a pattern that works for me.

When noon came on the Sunday, I was ready and waiting for Lula. I opened the apartment door, telling Lula that her hair looked good as I did so. I lied. "Did you notice the green streaks through it?" she asked. I told her that yes, I did notice the streaks. I didn't mention that it made her hair look like it was going mouldy.

We decided to take her car, as we didn't think it was a good idea to take as expensive a car as a Porsche Cayenne to buy a used car. Of course, I'm not sure how much better it is to take her Firebird. After all, what kind of message does it send to take such a fancy car as the Firebird? We took it anyway. The Firebird was the less costly of the two.

We went first to Lucky Lenny's used car lot. I don't think he was very lucky. Most of the cars on his lot didn't seem to start and the ones that did had bullet holes in them. One was missing a bumper and another was missing a floor pan. Since I did not want to drive the car in the style of Fred Flintstone, we went to the next used car lot, Arlington's Autos, down the street, where there was a car which looked like it had been partially compacted by the car squisher at the junkyard. There was another Fred Flintstone car with a couple of extra bumpers in the trunk. Lula and I did not feel there were any good deals there either. "They just don't make them like my Firebird", she said as she patted the hood of her car. "Too bad you can't get comprehensive insurance no more. If you could, you could lease like me", she said. It was true. I had so many car "accidents" in my past that no insurance company would pay for replacement of my car. They would only pay liability. I know because I have tried them all. I guess there are only so many times your car can get blown up before the insurance company will refuse to cover replacement value. In practical terms, what that meant is that I had very little money with which to buy a new car.

At the third used car lot I found a potential car. It was an eight-year old Saturn. Because of the polymer sides, it had very little rust on the car. It was still its original green colour, although the polymer sides had faded in the sun to a pale teal colour. The bumpers were scraped, but the body of the car looked like it was in good condition. I took the car out for a test drive. It started. Already it was better than seventy percent of the cars I had seen that day. It sounded okay, without too much of an engine knock, and it went around the block without stalling. It was a vast improvement to most cars I have owned. Lula was equally enthusiastic about the car. We were thinking of making an offer until Lula noticed the stick figure family in the back window of the car. These are three inch high white stickers depicting the owner's family. In many rear windows you might see something like a mom stick figure, a dad stick figure, a little girl skipping stick figure, a little boy playing soccer stick figure, and a dog with a bone. On the Saturn, the stick figure family consisted of one adult female and ten cats. "Would you look at that!" Lula said. "That lady had ten cats." Lula started to sneeze. "I knew there was something wrong with that car", she said. "I've been wanting to sneeze since I first sat in the thing. I have an allergy to cats. If you buy this car I would never be able to ride shotgun." And she promptly sneezed again, letting out an enormous fart at the same time. I moved up wind from her. I didn't point out to her that she hadn't needed to sneeze when she was actually in the car. There was little point. Once Lula gets something into her head, it is very hard to get it back out again. And I needed to have Lula ride shotgun.

I told the disappointed sales person "no", and we climbed back in the car. As we left the lot, I could see the sales person at the back of the car, peeling the stick figures off the window.

Driving down to Broad Used Autos, Lula said I should consider looking through the classifieds to see if there were any suitable used cars for sale there. Good idea. We detoured off to a convenience store, bought a paper and scanned the ads as we sat in the parking lot. There were three minivans and two sedans for sale. Each of the sedans had almost three hundred thousand kilometres on them. They were simply too old for what I had in mind. And I couldn't bring myself around to the idea of driving a minivan. It didn't fit my self-image of a hip, single woman. A Lexus convertible would have suited my self-image, but they didn't have any of those in my price range. Dejected, we continued on to Broad Used Autos. The pickings were equally as dismal there. No Lexuses at all and the only suitable cars were at least a thousand dollars over my price range.

I sighed. One of the other customers was standing there looking at a gently used Corolla. He looked over at me and smiled sympathetically. "Have you tried Craigslist and AutoTrader yet?" he asked.

Duh. I didn't even think of looking online. Feeling a little better about things, Lula and I went back to my place to look at the ads.

I pulled up Craigslist on the computer. There were ten cars in my price range in the Trenton/Newark area that would be suitable. They were an average of ten years old, and had an average of two hundred thousand kilometres. Prices were better than the prices at the used car lots. I also pulled up AutoTrader. There were some cars that were posted on both sites, but between the two sites I had fifteen separate vehicles to choose from.

Lula and I poured over the sites, finally choosing two vehicles. One was an eleven-year old Jeep Liberty, the other was a nine-year old four-door Honda Accord. Both looked like they were in good condition by their pictures. And more importantly, both were in my price range. I contacted both owners and made arrangements to see the cars the next evening. Feeling more positive, Lula and I each had a beer to celebrate. We split the remainder of my mom's lasagne and watched an old rerun of Friends on TV. Then we split the cookies my mom had sent home with me. By the time the episode was over we were full and Lula decided to go home.

I fed Rex another piece of apple and checked my messages. Two mouth breathers, one credit card offer and a reminder that I was due for a dental appointment. I phoned Morelli.

"What did you do all day?" Morelli asked.

"I looked at a number of used car lots, and in the paper, and online, for a suitable car. I have to give the Cayenne back to Ranger. I have had it too long as it is", I said.

"I will be happy when you give the car back. I don't like you driving his cars. I'm just not sure where they come from. Seriously, how can he always have new cars? And expensive cars? And how can they always be in top condition? Don't you ever wonder about that?"

I didn't bother answering him. This was an old argument we have been over many times, and there was no point in rehashing it again. He doesn't seem to believe me when I tell him what Ranger told me – the cars are provided in exchange for the provision of security services. Morelli thinks the cars have a dubious pedigree.

"Do you want me to go with you to look at the cars tomorrow night? To have another set of eyes?" Morelli asked.

"That would be great. Lula is busy. I have two cars I want to see. They are both in the Trenton area. From the pictures, the cars look great. But I would like your opinion. And I would like your help to make sure the cars aren't stolen." We made arrangements to meet for dinner at Pino's, our favourite local pizzeria, at six o'clock.

When I woke up the next day I could hear the rain pinging off the fire escape outside. I hate when it rains during the day. I like it at night, when you are all safe and dry in bed. Then the sound of the rain outside is comforting and calming. When you have to go out in the rain, however, it is just a pain in the keister. You have to juggle an umbrella with your purse, and try to jump over all the puddles while at the same time getting your pants soaked by all the cars splashing up water as they pass by.

I got up and showered, drinking coffee and eating a couple banana muffins for breakfast. The muffins were pretty good. I saved a bite for Rex, putting it in his dish before I left. "Tell me if the phone breather causes you any problems", I said. Leaving Rex in charge of the apartment, I drove to the office to meet up with Lula.

We decided to get Minetti first. He was scheduled to be at work. We headed over to the copy shop to meet up with him. When we got there we tried to form a plan. I wanted Lula to wait at the back door, to catch him if he tried to escape again.

"No way", Lula said. "I ain't waiting in no rain for some punk assed robber to possibly try to escape the store. The rain will frizz my hair." I told her that, as the bounty hunter assistant, she was not authorized to capture any felons. She was only allowed to assist. Therefore, she was the one who would have to stand in the rain while I went in the store to do the capture. I offered Lula my umbrella.

"Not going to take it", she said. "I'm not waiting in no rain. I will wait in the car and keep a lookout from there."

"Fine", I huffed, and got out of the car. Leaving Lula the umbrella, I walked up to the store. By the time I got to the door Lula was under the umbrella, behind me. We entered the store together and spoke to the manager again. "Did Michael Minetti come in today?"

"No", he answered. "He was supposed to be here an hour ago, but he is late."

"Is he normally late for work?" I asked.

"Yes, often. He isn't a very good employee. I keep wanting to fire him, but he is the son of one of my good friends. I'm doing my friend a favour by hiring him. It's even worse now he was arrested for robbery. Why would I want someone working here who was arrested for robbery? I have to check and double check my bank deposits each night just to assure myself it is all there."

I gave the manager my card again, and asked him to call if he saw Minetti. The manager said he would.

Leaving the copy shop, we ran out into the rain and sprinted to the car, trying to dodge raindrops but getting soaked anyway. "I'm getting hungry", said Lula. "I'm thinking a donut would be good about now."

"How about a free banana muffin instead", I said, and pointed the car in the direction of the Minetti residence.

"Muffin works for me", said Lula. "Free works even better."

We got to the Minetti home and, sharing the umbrella, ran up to the front door of the house. We rang the doorbell. Mrs. Minetti answered the door. "Oh, hello", she said. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon. Have you been able to find Michael? He hasn't come home since Friday night." I asked whether it was common for Minetti not to come home.

"Sometimes he stays with friends, especially if he has been partying."

I gave Mrs. Minetti my card and asked her to call if her son came home. I also thanked her again for the banana loaf and muffins, saying we both had enjoyed them very much.

"Please, take some more", she begged. "I baked another three dozen banana-chocolate chip muffins and four banana walnut loaves today. Please, take it all." She disappeared into the house, emerging with the muffins in three plastic bags and the walnut loaves wrapped in plastic wrap. Happily loaded up with baked goods, we ran to the car and put our loot in the back seat. We each took a muffin and ate in blissful silence. Mrs. Minetti was a really good baker.

Instead of looking further for Michael Minetti, I decided to concentrate on looking for Paulo Rosolli. I took out the file and the information I had printed off on him. Explaining a bit of the background to Lula, I told her we were looking for Connie's cousin, who seems to have flown the nest. As promised, I did not tell Lula about the discrepancy in the bond.

Since Connie had already spoken to all of the family members, I decided it would be better to start our search with Paulo's properties. He owned five properties in Trenton proper. Three of these properties were rented out to mom-and-pop type of businesses, with rental apartments on the second floor of the buildings. The other two were very small apartment buildings; one was more the size of a rooming house, with four apartments in it, while the other was three floors and housed nine apartments. We decided to tackle the mom-and-pop businesses first. We laid out the locations on the map and attacked the farthest away from the office first.

The first business was a dry cleaner. Entering the store, we were hit by a wall of heat. Mixed with the rain outside, the inside of the store was sweltering and had a chemical smell that caught in the back of the throat. This was a dry cleaner that cleaned its clothes onsite. We walked up to the counter and rang the bell. Within seconds we were getting uncomfortably warm and steam was starting to rise off of us. I eased the zipper of my jacket open. Lula took her jacket right off.

While we waited for someone to come to serve us, I looked around the store. Pictures of baseball teams displaying the dry cleaner's name on their chests were posted on the wall. A pennant from three years ago was pinned above them. There were also two pictures of students in caps and gowns hanging on the wall. Judging by the hair styles, these graduation pictures were taken recently. I assumed the pictures were of the owner's children.

A pleasant looking Asian woman came to the front of the store. "May I help you?" she asked. I showed her the picture of Paulo, asking her whether she had seen him. "No, not recently", she said. "He comes to collect our post-dated rent cheques once a year, and he comes if there is a problem with either the store or our apartment up above. But I haven't seen him recently. The last time was probably about five months ago."

I gave her my card, explaining that Paulo was due in court on racketeering charges but had missed his court date. I asked her to call me if she saw him. "I will. He is such a nice man. I wouldn't have suspected he was a criminal. I hope he is okay."

We didn't check the apartment above. The dry cleaner lady said that she, her husband and her two children lived in it, and that no one was currently there.

We drove to the next business on the list. This business was a convenience store. We ran into the store, getting wet in the downpour. The store was small but it had a wide variety of items for sale. "But no slushies", complained Lula. "How can a convenience store have no slushies? I could really go for a slushy about now. One of the red ones, although the blue are pretty good, too. Just not the yellow or green ones. I mean, seriously, would you drink something that has the same colour as pee? And the green ones look like alien blood." It seemed like a good point to me. I like the red ones best as well, and I won't go near one of the yellow or green ones. Everybody knows that you don't drink the yellow or green ones. Not necessarily because they are the same colour as pee or alien blood, but rather because they taste terrible.

We rang the bell and waited for the sales clerk to come. Once there, I showed the clerk the picture of Paulo. I asked him if he had seen Paulo recently.

"No, I haven't. Hey, do you want him for something? Is there are reward out for finding him? I could really use the money." I wanted to tell him there was no reward, but I didn't think he would help us if I didn't offer him money. So I told him there would be a twenty dollar bill with his name on it if he called us when he saw Paulo and we were able to capture Paulo based on his tip. He seemed happy, so I gave him my card.

On the way out of the store, I asked about the person living in the apartment above. "There is a woman named Bonita living there. I have never seen her have company over though. She comes in here every morning – alone – to buy her coffee before she grabs the bus to work. She's a nice person, but quiet, you know?" I knew the type. My sister was that kind of person – quiet, serene, and never really gets into trouble. The complete opposite to me.

We went outside and slogged through the parking lot to the rear of the building. Leaving Lula with the umbrella to wait at the bottom of the stairs, I climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door of the apartment. There wasn't any answer. I peeked through the window on the door into the tiny kitchen. The kitchen, and what I could see of the place beyond, was neat and tidy. There was a single glass, bowl and spoon drip-drying in the dish rack. There was no indication of anybody living there other than Bonita. And no one answered the door.

I shook my head at Lula and climbed back down the stairs. I was now soaked and in a bad mood. There was one more storefront to visit before I officially quit for the day. In the afternoon I planned on doing phone work from my apartment. I checked the weather on my phone. It was supposed to stop raining around mid-afternoon, and clear up in time for looking at cars later on tonight. And it was supposed to be nice tomorrow. That wouldn't be so bad, I thought. Shoring myself up with thoughts of the hot shower I would have when I got home, I drove to the third storefront. It was a small diner. And it was busy with the lunchtime crowd. It was especially busy as it appeared that there was only one server waiting on the entire restaurant.

"Perfect!" Lula said. "I was just getting hungry." I agreed. I was getting hungry, too. We lined up just inside the door, waiting for a table. I tried to wring out my hair while we waited. After a few minutes a booth opened up along the back wall, and we were able to take a seat. A smiling waitress came to deliver menus, giving our table a swipe with a cloth. "A little wet out there?" she questioned, looking at my soaked jacket and hair. Lula and I each smiled and agreed, ordered hot coffee and settled down to look at our menus. After some deliberation, Lula ordered a hamburger, a plate of fries and a plate of onion rings. I ordered the hot roast beef sandwich with gravy, also with fries. I hoped to snag some of Lula's onion rings from her plate. When the waitress came back to take our orders, I showed her Paulo's picture. "I'm sorry – I don't recognize him. Why are you looking for him?" I trotted out the usual line, explaining that he had missed his court hearing and needed to reschedule. I then asked about the tenant upstairs. "There is a young couple who lives up there. I don't think they cook much because they come in most nights and pick up something for dinner." I asked whether they were ordering more than usual over the last couple of days. "No, not that I have noticed", she said. Just then another customer called out for her to come and give him his bill, and the waitress hurried away.

It felt like we had hit a bit of a dead end in looking for Paulo. I wasn't giving up so easily though. I still had to knock on the apartment upstairs, there were still the two apartment buildings to check out, and I still had the task of calling all of Connie's relatives to see if they knew anything. I also wanted to go into Rangeman to see if I was able to find out anything on the Rangeman search engines. Their search programs are far more advanced than the programs that the bonds office uses, or even from what the police use. Their search engines are highly invasive, and will tell you everything from the contents of your kindergarten report cards to the results of your last gynecological exam. I once ran my own name through the programs for fun and was shocked at how much the programs found out. They reported things even I didn't know about myself. Because it is a little scary how much information can be discovered through the programs, I don't like using them unless I had to. It just seems wrong to be so intrusive on someone's privacy. But, in this case, they were the best bet I had to find out about other properties and holding companies Paulo may have and I didn't have any other choice other than using them.

Lula and I ate our lunch, me snagging several of Lula's rings and Lula dipping her fries into the extra gravy on my plate. The meal was good – nice and hot. Leaving the waitress a good tip, we went out into the rain. It was raining harder than before, if that was even possible. Lula again waited at the bottom of the stairs with the umbrella and I got drenched walking up the stairs. I knocked on the door, but there was no one home. I guessed that both home owners were at work. I looked in the windows but only saw two coffee cups, one plate with toast crumbs on it, a dirty knife, and one bowl and spoon sitting on the counter. There were no indications that there were any other people staying in the apartment other than the couple renting the space.

We got back into the car, into the comforting smell of freshly baked banana bread. I was soaked and starting to shiver, and decided to call off the investigation of Paulo's properties. Lula was relatively dry. I dropped her and her baked goods, as well as some muffins and a loaf of bread for Connie, off at the bonds office, telling her that I was going home to do phone work from my apartment after I had a shower and warmed up. That wasn't entirely true. I planned to go to Rangeman before I did the phone work. I just didn't want to tell Lula that, as I knew she would want to come. She has been dying to get into the Rangeman facility for a while now, wanting the full seven-floor tour, with an especial focus on the top-floor apartment where Ranger lives. I have been trying equally as hard to protect Rangeman, and especially Ranger, from Lula's curiosity. It would not go over well if Lula came with me to Rangeman. Simply put, if I invited Lula to go with me to Rangeman, I am afraid that I would never get invited back.

Rangeman is located in an unassuming seven-story office building on a quiet side street in the heart of Trenton. It was a good location, about ten minutes from the police station, the bonds office, and my apartment building. In addition to Ranger's apartment, the building contains an apartment for the building housekeeper, Ella, and her caretaker husband, Luis; efficiency apartments for staff; a gym; a shooting range; holding cells; offices; conference rooms; and the heart of the business, a control room that monitors all client security systems. This control room also monitors what happens to Rangeman staff and vehicles, as well as the Rangeman main office, safe houses, and other properties. The bonds office is monitored by Rangeman. So am I. A tracking device is put into my car, usually without me knowing, whether I want it or not. Ranger often sneaks a tracking device into my purses and sometimes into my coat pockets as well. Ranger likes to take care of his own.

After having a hot shower and changing into dry clothes, I phoned Tank and asked for permission to go to Ranger's apartment to use his computer in his home office. Tank said he would tell the control room I was coming. I did not need a key – Ranger had given me keys to the underground parking and his apartment a long time ago. But while I could technically get in, the control room would still need to know I was coming or they would stop me from going to the seventh floor – the floor that contained Ranger's home.

I drove to Rangeman, let myself into the underground parking lot and parked the Cayenne in one of Ranger's personal parking spots. Ranger has four spots: one for his 911 Porsche Turbo, one for his Porsche Cayenne, one for his Toyota Tacoma, and an empty one. I'm not sure if Ranger was planning on buying another car, but I know that the fourth spot is usually where I park. It is nice and close to the elevators.

I keyed myself up into Ranger's apartment. No matter how often I am there, his apartment always takes me a bit by surprise. Ranger is very tough, very self-disciplined, and on the outside can be very hard. Nobody knows what he is like on the inside. So to enter his luxurious apartment, professionally decorated in soothing neutrals and warm woods, is a shock. As you enter the apartment, an antique hall table holds two silver trays, one for mail and one for keys, as well as a bouquet of fresh flowers. To the left is a half bath. To the right is a gourmet kitchen, complete with stainless steel appliances and granite countertops. The kitchen is separated from the small dining room and living room by a breakfast bar. At the other end of the apartment is the master suite. This is composed of a bedroom which graces a king-sized bed with at least 1000 count sheets, a sumptuous bathroom with bath products in Ranger's signature Bulgari Green scent, a large custom-made walk-in closet and an office that is complete with a couch and a television. The apartment is maintained by Ranger's housekeeper, and I honestly don't think Ranger even notices the flowers, the high-end scented body wash or even the artwork. I'm not totally convinced that Ranger would consider the apartment a home. There are no pictures, books or magazines lying around. No clutter of any kind. In truth, I'm not sure where Ranger would consider home. I suspect it isn't defined by a physical space, but rather is someplace he carries inside of him.

I walked through Ranger's apartment to his office and turned on his computer. In the past there have been a few times when I needed rent money, and Ranger employed me to perform searches for Rangeman. I was well familiar with the search programs Rangeman used. I quickly accessed the different programs, putting in the data needed to see what I could discover about Paulo. After a couple of hours, I had the names of two holding companies and a list of properties. Some of these properties, as Ranger had suggested, were at the shore. I printed the information, shut down the computer and breathed in, getting a warm rush as I did so. There was the lingering scent of Bulgari Green from the last time Ranger was in the apartment. It is a scent that defines Ranger – I find it both erotic and comforting at the same time.

I left the apartment, locking the door behind me as I went. I phoned Tank on the way down to the parking garage to thank him and let him know that I was leaving. "I see you on the screen", he said. "Thanks for letting me know". Of course he saw me on the screen. Little can happen in the Rangeman building without it being monitored. Only the apartments and the washrooms were private.

At six o'clock I went to Pino's to meet Morelli for dinner. I got there first, working my way through the crowd at the bar to choose a booth at the back of the restaurant. I faced the door, all the better for Morelli to see me when he came in. The after-work crowd was there, comprised primarily of cops and health care staff coming off shift from the nearby Saint Francis hospital. I recognized a few of them. Spirits were high and the volume was loud. Two home delivery drivers were waiting at the kitchen doors for orders to be ready. Home pizza delivery was apparently a hopping business. No surprise, since in my estimation Pino's makes the best pizza in Trenton.

There was a little more sanity at the back of the restaurant. I watched the crowd for a few minutes, floating in my thoughts. Morelli entered the restaurant and walked back to join me at the booth. Wearing a black leather jacket over a pale blue button-down shirt and black jeans, the jacket hid the gun at his belt. More than one woman's eyes followed Morelli's progress to the back of the bar, and more than one woman gave me an envious look when Morelli gave me a quick kiss before sitting down in the booth. Morelli, as usual, was oblivious to the looks.

"You aren't too wet. How did you stay nice and dry today?" Morelli asked.

"I started moulding this morning after being out in the rain, so I went home and had a hot shower and dried off. Then I went to Rangeman and used some of their search programs to look for one of my skips", I said. Morelli got quiet, looked down at the table, and counted to ten.

"Did you have to go to Rangeman? Why couldn't you use the bonds office search programs?" he complained. The waitress came and took our order for a large pizza with olives, onions, peppers, sausage and pepperoni and a cola for Morelli and an iced tea for me.

"They aren't invasive enough. I needed something more in-depth."

"I hate you using their programs, Cupcake. I often wonder if that level of invasiveness is legal. What was Ranger doing while you were using his computer?" Morelli asked suspiciously.

"Relax. He's in Canada right now. He just said that I could use his apartment if I wanted to, to use his search programs if the bonds office programs weren't detailed enough."

"His apartment? Really? Couldn't you just use one of the offices there?" For all Morelli's griping, however, you could tell he was feeling more comfortable about it all knowing Ranger wasn't in the sphere of his bedroom while I was there. "Who are you going after this time?"

"Paulo Rosolli."

"Connie's cousin? That Paulo Rosolli?"

"Yup, the same one. There is a bit of a problem with his bond, so I am trying not to let Vinnie know we are going after him. Lula and I spent most of the day looking for him."

"What is wrong with the bond?"

"Connie wrote the bond. It was a high bond, but the collateral that she accepted was of very low value. Vinnie will have her job if we don't find Paulo and straighten this out."

"What did you find out on the search programs?" he asked.

"The usual. But I also found out two holding companies and several additional buildings and businesses the office search programs didn't find. There should be enough for me to investigate further over the next few days. In amongst my other skip chasing."

"Who else are you chasing?" he asked.

"I still have to bring in Pete Brodie, that mud-flinging pilot. And I am currently after Michael Minetti, the banana robber. I have a couple outstanding that I haven't even looked at yet as well. Any ideas on Minetti or Brodie?"

"Did you say a banana robber? Did he rob a grocery store?"

"Nope. He pretended that a banana in his pocket was a gun and held up a bank. He got himself shot and arrested for it." Morelli smiled. "We are having a bit of a problem picking him up, but it's okay as his mother keeps giving us banana bread and muffins whenever we go to visit her. The last batch of muffins even had chocolate chips in them. I've eaten so many banana muffins over the last few days I am starting to get tired of them. So do you have any ideas of where I should look?"

"Nope. I'm sure you'll find them." And that's the thing with me. I'm good at finding skips – eventually. But even though I have over a ninety percent success rate in retrieving skips, that rate is based on luck and tenacity rather than skill. I find that, if I bumble around enough, I am successful in capturing most of them sooner or later. It is a success rate of which I am proud. Especially because I know how brutal I am as a bounty hunter. If I was Ranger, I would have twice as many skips captured in half the time.

Our pizza came and we changed topics to the cars that we were going to see that evening. I showed Morelli the print-outs of the two car ads. He explained to me that, as long as they had the paperwork from the DMV, the vehicles should not be stolen. I thought it still wouldn't hurt having a cop along when I looked at them.

Finishing dinner, we went to my first choice of the two. The Jeep Liberty is a bit bigger than the Accord, which would make it a better choice for when I was transporting larger skips. The height would also make it easier for me to put reluctant skips in the car without whacking their heads against the roof. Of course, whacking heads against the roof of the car held some appeal with some of the skips I pick up. The Jeep had more panache than the Accord, and was more in tune with how I view myself. On the negative side, it did not have child locks on the rear doors which meant that skips would be able to let themselves out of the car at any red light or, if the skip was really desperate, while the vehicle was in motion. With child locks the doors to the backseat can only be opened from the outside. Having no child locks was a really big negative.

We walked up to the house, inspecting the car as we went. It was a dark blue. It looked like it was in good shape. Sure, a bit rusty, but the rust had been recently covered by spray paint so that it didn't look bad at all. The interior was clean and only smelled a little smoky from the previous owner's cigars. The fact that the car windows were down, airing out the car was not a good sign, but it seemed to have its floor pan and both of its bumpers. The owner said it had never been in an accident, then gave us the keys and climbed in the backseat. Both Morelli and I took it for a drive, me driving quickly but Morelli putting the pedal to the floor. It had a slight engine knock, but not too bad. The air conditioner seemed to work and so did the heater. All in all, a positive experience. We told the owner we would think about it and would get back to him later on in the evening to let him know what we decided.

We then went to see the Honda Accord. This was a much smaller car and would be better on gas. It had rear-seat child locks. This was a definite bonus. It also had less rust than the Jeep. The owner pointed out that the car had been oil sprayed each year since it was purchased new. This meant that it wouldn't get as rusty as quickly. That was a definite plus. Again, the interior was clean although this one did not have the smell of a cigar lingering in the air. It did not appear as though it had been in any accidents. We checked the air conditioner and found that it was working. We also checked the heater, and found that it was working, too. The seats were comfortable and did not look too dirty or worn. The owner gave us the keys and we took it for a test drive, Morelli again putting his foot to the floor to test speed. I think it must be a guy thing to want to see the pick-up and how fast a car will go. I know that I didn't really care, as long as the car went from A to B, preferably without stalling.

At the end of the drive Morelli and I sat in the Accord and compared the two cars. Although I really wanted the Jeep, I agreed with Morelli that the child safety locks and the rust-proofing made the Accord the better choice. We walked back up the driveway to the owner's house and went to speak to the owner. We told him that we were interested in the car, although we would like to have a mechanic look over the car before we bought it. Morelli called Bucky, the mechanic we have used for the past few years and acted as the go-between in arranging a time for the car to be dropped off for its inspection. Then Morelli looked over the paperwork to make sure that the car wasn't stolen. Deciding the car was safe to buy, Morelli then took over negotiations on the price of the car. He is such an alpha male. In truth, I was a little bummed he did this. But he put his hands on his hips as he negotiated, unknowingly revealing his gun. The owner, swallowing convulsively when he saw it, immediately agreed to sell the car for five hundred dollars less than the advertised price. Morelli negotiated the price down a further two hundred and fifty dollars. I was no longer irritated with him leading the negotiations. I don't think I would have fared so well without his help – or his gun.

Morelli drove me back to Pino's to pick up Ranger's car. "Do you want to come over to my place tonight?" he asked. I said no, saying I was tired, and I had a full day the next day and needed to have a good sleep. "I could help you sleep. Bob misses you!" Saying Bob missed me is code for Morelli that he wants a night of wild gorilla sex. And I knew that going over to Morelli's would mean that I would do lots of things, but sleeping would not be one of them.

"Bob will just have to go on missing me", I said.


	3. Chapter 3

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Three **

I went home to find the mouth breather had left five messages since I had been there in the early afternoon. Since I also got a telemarketing call after the breathing messages, I could not reverse call to find out the phone number.

Rex was running on his hamster wheel, getting nowhere. I didn't see the point, although I have to admit there are times when I also felt like I was running on a hamster wheel. I said "hi" to Rex and gave him some hamster crunchies and a raisin, and changed his water. Rex stopped running and hopped off his wheel, went and stuffed the raisin in his mouth, and scurried off to his soup can to enjoy his bounty. He's like me. He prefers dessert over healthy food.

After feeding Rex, I got ready for bed and went to sleep. A couple of hours later, the phone rang. I picked it up, almost dropping it in my sleep-stupefied state. There was only breathing on the line. "Why do you keep calling me?" I asked.

"Steph – an – nie", the man said in a low, creepy voice. He was obviously trying to disguise his voice, and was doing it well enough that I was not able to identify him. But he sounded so ridiculous on the phone I had to struggle not to laugh.

"Do-I-know-you?" I asked in a similar creepy voice.

"Yes." And he hung up.

I thought that was weird. Not really creepy, but weird. I hung up, gave a little chuckle, rolled over and went back to sleep. For fifteen minutes. That was how long it took for the breather to call back. "Steph-an-nie", he said.

"Can you give me a hint as to who you are?" I asked.

"No." And he hung up.

I tried reverse calling, but the number was blocked and I could not tell who was calling me. I tried blocking the number, but I didn't have that calling feature on my phone. Instead, I had four more calls over the next hour and a half. I no longer found the voice funny, and had to take the phone off the hook before I could finally fall back to sleep.

Because of the broken night's sleep, I was late getting going in the morning. I rushed through my shower, blasted my hair with the hair dryer, gunked up my eyelashes with mascara, got dressed, poured a cup of coffee in me and shoved in a banana muffin, and ran out the door, all in twenty-five minutes. I phoned Bucky's to see if he had been able to look at the Accord. He had. I drove first to the mechanic's to pay him and to talk to Bucky about his findings.

"It's a good car – not too much rust. I'm not sure how well the air conditioner will work in the summer – it may need to be recharged – but the heat seemed to work well and the windows are reliable in powering down. It passed its safety inspection. The timing belt will need replaced in the near future, and the brakes have a few miles left on them. When they need to be done next – probably at the next oil change – both the rotors and the pads will need to be replaced. How much are you paying for it?" I told him, and he nodded his head. "I think that is a good price for the car. I think it will serve you well, at least until you blow this one up." He smiled, but I knew he was serious. Getting blown up is an occupational hazard for my cars.

Hearing the good news about the car, I drove to the bank to withdraw the money to buy it. I went up to the counter and saw Lorna, an old friend of mine from high school. I explained that I was buying a new car. "Did your last one get blown up again?" she asked. I nodded my head. It had exploded, although the hundred bullet holes in the car before it blew up was really what had incapacitated it. The explosion was an unfortunate accident after the fact.

I then drove home to hide the money under my mattress. I didn't want to take the chance that the money would drop out of my purse or that I would lose it at some point during the day. Call me a worrier, but these are the kind of thoughts that go through my head.

After taking care of car-buying business, I drove to the bonds office and parked at the back of the building. I entered the office and saw Lula bent over a file drawer, ass in the air as she filed case files in alphabetical order. At that angle and with the revealing nature of the clothing she had chosen to wear – it must have been part of her business woman collection left over from her 'ho days – she was flashing Connie a view of the full moon and I could see clear down the front of her shirt to her belly button. I was so stunned to see her doing her job that I stopped and stared, mouth open in amazement.

As office file clerk, Lula's job was to put away all the case files. But in reality, Lula was the worst file clerk ever. Her main claim to the job was that she was able to tolerate Vinnie and his sexual proclivities. That made her better than any previous file clerk that the office had. Instead of filing though, she spent most of her time either helping me or reading gossip magazines. I looked at Connie and asked what the special occasion was.

"Lula's work anniversary is coming up. She wants Vinnie to give her a bonus, so she is trying to catch up on weeks of filing this afternoon", Connie said.

I looked at Lula. "Does this mean that you don't want to go out to find skips?" I asked.

"Shee-it, girl, you know that I would love to. But I need to do this here filing. Can you do the skip-chasing yourself today? My review is tomorrow morning, so I will be available to go looking for skips tomorrow afternoon."

"That's a date", I said. "Can you help me tonight? I am buying a car. I need to drop off Ranger's car at Rangeman and then get a ride over to the seller's house so that I can pick up the car. Would you mind doing the driving?"

"No problemo." We made arrangements for me to call Lula after dinner when I would need a ride, and I left to go home to phone Connie's relatives.

When I got home there were three more messages with "Steph-an-nie" said in that pseudo-creepy voice. The harassment was getting old. I wanted to know who was leaving messages for me. There were three people that I was actively chasing – Paulo Rosolli, Michael Minetti, and Pete Brodie. I thought about the voice but could not place it. It could be any one of those guys. Or it could be someone from my past. There were a lot of people I had caught previously who might not be too pleased with me.

I gave up trying to place the voice and turned my attention to phoning the Rosolli family members. After several hours, I had talked to everyone in the family. However, despite my threats that Connie could lose her job if Paulo did not come forward, I was not able to get anyone to help me in my search. It appeared as though Paulo had fallen off the face of the earth.

I made a ham and Swiss sandwich for dinner and washed it down with a glass of water. Once I had eaten I grabbed the money from under my mattress and phoned Tank to let him know I would be returning Ranger's car.

I went up to Ranger's apartment, keyed myself in, and dropped the keys to his Cayenne on the silver tray at the front door. I took a deep breath and smelled the lingering scent of Bulgari Green. A rush went through me, straight down to my girl bits. My girl bits started to tingle. I decided I better leave quickly, before I found myself sniffing Ranger's sheets and forgetting about Morelli.

I left the apartment, locked up, and headed down to the lobby to wait for Lula. Tank came down to talk to me. "Let me know when you pick up your new car. I will need to know its plate number and make – I will have someone put a GPS tracker in the car tonight." I thought a number of things upon hearing that. I considered giving Tank incorrect information so he tracked the wrong person. That would be fun. And I considered not calling Tank at all. Either way would just result in Rangeman correcting the mistake without my knowledge though, and nothing would be accomplished. Besides, as invasive as I sometimes found this intrusion on my privacy, it had also been a benefit at times. If my tracking device goes off the grid, I know I can always count on Rangeman to come and help me.

"What colour is your new car?" Tank asked.

"Black", I said.

Tank smiled. All Ranger's cars were black. "Good choice", he said.

Lula arrived to pick me up. "Remember to call me", called out Tank as I was getting into the car.

Lula drove me to the owner's house to pick up the car. She looked the car over as we walked up the driveway. "This one is a pretty good one", she said. "It doesn't really have no rust on it either. It won't be embarrassing to ride in this one. Not as good as the Cayenne, mind you, and really not as good as my Firebird. But it looks better than the car that you had last year that used to be a pizza delivery truck. Riding in that car always made me hungry. And what about the one that had been confiscated during a drug bust? It always smelled like weed. It made me hungry all the time too. But this one looks pretty good. I really hope you don't blow this one up."

Finishing the transaction with the car owner, I grabbed the keys and drove to Morelli's house. At the curb outside his house was his mother's car. I decided not to go in. If his mother was there, that meant Grandma Bella was also there. I don't have anything against Mrs. Morelli, but Grandma Bella was someone who was feared by many. An ancient Italian woman with small beady black eyes, gray hair, a sharp nose and chin whiskers, she was purported to have the power to curse people. This power is called the "eye". The "eye" can do terrible things such as cause all your hair to fall out, make your period last for months, or make you lose your job. Grandma Bella hated me, and as such I was the recipient of the eye quite frequently. I didn't feel like getting cursed today, though, so I decided to go home. I was in a good mood about my new car and I didn't want to burst the bubble.

I got to my building and walked up the stairs to my apartment. Letting myself in, I walked over to Rex's cage to say "hi". I then listened to my messages. There were two breathing messages and one from our local charity shop asking for donations. There were also four "Steph-an-nie" messages. I shook my head. I hoped that I wouldn't have another night where I had to take the phone off the hook.

I phoned Tank and gave him the information he wanted about my new car. He asked me where I was staying overnight and said that he would have the GPS tracker installed while I slept. I then phoned Morelli. As he picked up the phone I could hear people talking and yelling at each other in the background. The dog was barking and it sounded like bedlam. Morelli still had company. I told him I had gone by his house, but when I saw he had company I decided not to stop. "Chicken", he said. He knew my aversion to visiting with Grandma Bella.

"Their house is getting painted. They don't want to live there at the same time, in all the fumes, so they called me and asked me today whether they could come to stay with me. I couldn't say no. They will be here for the next week", he said.

"I guess this means that you won't be able to stay over here as well?"

"Sorry, Cupcake. There will be no overnighters until my parents and grandmother leave." That was a real bummer to me, as I was ready to have an overnighter.


	4. Chapter 4

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 9

**Chapter Four **

I was also ready to have a good sleep. Thinking of the terrible sleep I had the night before, I unplugged my phone just in case. My sleep was deep and dreamless, as only the truly tired can have. The next morning, when I awoke, the room was dark. I did not look at the clock, but immediately rolled over and went back to sleep. About an hour later I woke again, but the room was still dark. I looked at the time, surprised to see that it was nine o'clock in the morning. I looked out the window. The window was completely dark, despite the fact that I had not drawn the curtains the night before. I walked over to the window and was able to see that the window had been spray painted overnight. It was completely black except for some orange lettering. Reading backwards, I was able to see that the word was "cunt".

Now, in my time I have been called a "bitch" and a "fucking asshole". I have been called a "witch", a "pussy", a "whore" and a "'ho". In my line of work, you sort of get used to it. I don't take those names personally. However, I draw the line at "cunt". That seems to be excessively rude and offensive. I hate being called a "cunt" and I was mad that someone would do this to me. And I was a little creeped out that someone had been up on my fire escape, able to look in on me as I was sleeping.

I quickly had a shower and got ready for the day. I made a big pot of coffee for the police officers coming to make out the vandalism report and I got banana bread out of the freezer to defrost, to give to the officers to go with their coffee. I made my bed and tidied up my apartment so my mother wouldn't be embarrassed when the police came traipsing through the place. Then I plugged in my phone and called the superintendent, Dillon, to come and look at the damage.

Dillon is a good guy. Despite my many apartment emergencies – I have as many of them as I have cars that blow up – Dillon is still nice to me. There is little that goes on in the building he doesn't know about, and he is prompt and efficient in fixing problems. Above all, he is a nice guy who will do almost anything for a six-pack of beer.

Dillon came up and knocked on my door. I offered him a cup of coffee and a piece of banana bread. As he was munching on the bread, he went into the bedroom and looked at the window. "I have to hand it to you. This is the first time you have had your window spray painted. You will need to file a police report so that I can claim the window cleaning on insurance." I figured as much.

I called the vandalism into the police station, explaining it wasn't an emergency but it would be helpful for them to send a uniform out as soon as possible. I had a busy day and did not want to waste time waiting for the police to show up. I didn't need to phone Morelli. I knew dispatch would call him as soon as they sent the request through to the uniforms. It didn't matter what happened. As soon as a call came in from my apartment, the bonds office or my cell phone, dispatch called the police station and then called Morelli. And usually a half dozen other people – other police officers, good Samaritans listening to the police band – also called Morelli. He always finds out when something goes wrong in my life, almost as soon as it has happened.

Sure enough, ten minutes later Morelli showed up at the door. "You have been doing some redecorating, I see", he said. He had his serious cop face on, and it looked like steam was coming out of his ears. Apparently he didn't like the "cunt" word either. Asking me what happened, I explained to him about the phone calls, and then told him about the window being spray painted. And I told him the really creepy part about how the vandal had been able to look into my apartment as I slept. As I finished my explanation, two uniforms showed up to make their report. I knew both of them. They were Carl Constanza and Big Dog. I went to school with Carl from the time we were in kindergarten on; Big Dog I met more recently. I have seen them many times in the past – they often were the first responders to one of my mishaps. Both were good guys. I offered everyone coffee and banana bread.

"I didn't know you could bake", Carl said.

"I can't. This is a gift from one of my skips' mothers. Every time I go to the house to see if I can pick up the skip the mother gives me banana bread and muffins."

"I wouldn't work too hard to find the skip", Big Dog said. "This banana bread is excellent."

"I don't want you staying here tonight", said Morelli. "You need to stay somewhere else until this blows over. I would have you sleep at my house, but with my parents and grandmother there I am currently sleeping on the couch. I can't help you this time. Perhaps you could sleep at your parents'?"

I agreed. I didn't want to sleep there either. I was too creeped out by the thought that someone had watched me sleep.

The phone rang. I let the answering machine take it. We could hear the caller as the message was recording. "Steph-an-nie", said the voice. "Did you like my surprise?" I raced to the phone and picked up. "Who are you?" I cried into the phone. The caller hung up and all I had for an answer was a dial tone.

"I don't suppose you want to change your number?" suggested Morelli.

"No, I don't suppose I do", I replied. Changing my number would be a logistical nightmare and would require me having to tell a vast number of people the change. It would also require me to reprint all my business cards. It would be something I would only do as a last resort.

"That graffiti shows this is getting personal", said Morelli. "Be careful, Cupcake. And call me if you need me." Morelli gave me a quick kiss and left the apartment.

I finished up with the police officers and left my cell number with Dillon for him to call when my window was once again clean. I put the remaining banana bread back in the freezer and put the last of the coffee in a travel mug to take with me to the office. Figuring that, since I would be at my parents for the next couple of days I could do my laundry at the same time, I put my dirty clothes in a laundry basket, balanced Rex's cage on top, and took the whole mess down to the car. I was all set for the day.

I went first to my parents. My grandmother was standing at the door, spying on the neighbours. She peered at my car, face brightening when she saw me get out. "I didn't recognize you. Is that a new car?" she asked.

"Yes", I said. "I just picked it up last night. Pretty sweet, huh? It hardly even has any rust. And I got it for a good deal. The previous owner had been given a company car and no longer needed this one."

"It looks like a great car. I hope this one doesn't get blown up." She called my mom out to look at my new car. We all went down to circle it.

"It doesn't have any dents or major scrapes yet, and there isn't much rust. This looks like a good one", my mom said. I thought so, too. I couldn't believe my luck.

"Is it okay if I do some laundry here?" I asked.

"No problem. If you leave it for me, I will do it for you today", my mom replied.

"That would be great, thanks. Also, would it be okay if I slept here for the next few days?" I asked.

"What is wrong? You never sleep over unless something is wrong. Did your apartment blow up again? And why aren't you staying with Joseph? I was wondering when I saw Rex's cage through the window", my mom asked.

"No, it is just that my apartment is having some paint removed, and I can't stay there while it is being done. Morelli currently has company and has no space for me to sleep there." I tried to answer as truthfully as possible without worrying my mother unduly.

"Is it lead paint? I bet it is lead paint that they are removing. That stuff is no good. I heard that it can kill your intelligence if you eat lead paint", said my grandmother.

"I don't know – maybe it's lead paint", I said. I didn't know if the paint had lead in it or not, and I was trying to imagine a situation in which I would be eating the paint. I couldn't.

I carried Rex's cage up the stairs into my old bedroom. This room basically hadn't changed since I lived at home. Except for new curtains and a new bedspread, the furniture, lamp, and wallpaper were all the same. Even my old high school diploma on the wall and pictures of my days as a high school baton twirler hadn't changed. It was comforting to return to the womb this way and it provided a sense of security that had been slowly eroding away with every harassing phone call I received.

I went downstairs to sort my laundry in the kitchen. My grandmother shooed me out of the room, saying she didn't have anything better to do and would sort my laundry for me. Since my chores were all being done by my mother and grandmother, I thanked them, said good-bye, got in my car and headed for work.


	5. Chapter 5

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Five **

When I got to work, I saw Lula sitting on the couch reading a gossip magazine. There were pictures of starved celebrities and royal family members on the cover, with the caption "The Skinny on Being Skinny" headlined across the top. Lula had a stormy look on her face as she angrily paged through the magazine.

"What happened? Why aren't you filing?" I questioned. Connie sighed in anticipation of Lula's response.

"Yeah, that won't happen. I filed all day yesterday and let me tell you, it is hard to bend down so much. My knees haven't hurt like that since I was a 'ho after a day of giving BJs. So I filed all day and got through a lot of the backlog. I even worked through my lunch. But did Vinnie appreciate what I did? Hell, no. Not only did he fail to give me no bonus, but he also didn't give me no raise. Dammit, I deserve a raise. I thought that was what was supposed to happen at a job review meeting. You are supposed to get raises. But I got bupkis. It is all bullshit." Lula continued muttering to herself about the unfairness of not getting more money.

I interrupted Lula's mutterings. "Are you interested in getting skips? I could use some back-up."

Lula instantly brightened. "You have your new car. It is a lucky car. You got a good deal on it, and it's in good condition. It don't even have no dents in it. I just know it's going to bring us luck. WHAM! Let's go get us some skips."

"If you go by the Minetti house, see if you can get some more muffins", asked Connie. "They were good. I had a potluck candle party with my family last night and I served the muffins for my contribution. They were a real hit. Oh, and by the way, I brought the candle order catalogue in so you could see if there are any candles you would like to order. I am close to winning the deluxe hostess package, so please feel free to order as many candles as you would like. They have candle holders and soaps, too." Short of a power outage, I tried to imagine a situation in which I would need a candle. Morelli and I aren't really the candlelight, champagne and roses types. We're more the beer and pizza type. And beer and pizza don't go with candlelight. They go with a rerun of Lethal Weapon on TV.

Promising Connie that we would go visit Minetti first, Lula and I took the catalogue with us and left the office. We went first to the Minetti residence. Mrs. Minetti answered the door, letting out the wonderful aroma of banana muffins baking. "Oh, good, you are here. I was just about to call you. Michael is upstairs in bed. He got in late last night, and hasn't gotten up yet. Would you like to go up to get him?" I nodded yes and, going into my purse, removed my cuffs and put them in my hoody front pocket. I also put my stun gun in my pocket. I don't like using a stun gun in front of witnesses – it is slightly illegal to use a stun gun in New Jersey – but it had been difficult to find Minetti and I didn't want to take the chance I would lose him.

Prepared for the takedown, Lula and I entered the house and followed Mrs. Minetti up the stairs. When we got to the top of the stairs, Mrs. Minetti pointed to Michael's bedroom door and stood to the side so we could go in. I knocked on the door, not hearing any response at all. I cautiously opened the door. There were dirty clothes on every surface of the furniture and the floors. Minetti was sprawled on the bed, face down, still in his clothes from the night before. Even his shoes. The room smelled of stale beer and his greasy hair held traces of vomit. Mrs. Minetti gasped at seeing the state of her son and then choked on the smell emanating from his room. I went in, breathing through my mouth so the smell wouldn't make me gag. Lula waited outside the room.

I shook Minetti's shoulder. There was no response. He was passed out cold. I put one of his arms behind his back and cuffed him, then attached the cuffs to his other arm. I shook Michael harder, trying to wake him up. I called his name a few times, slapped him on the face, and ultimately resorted to pouring a bit of cold water on his head. I was finally able to get him up – still dead drunk and on the verge of passing out, but awake enough to escort him down to the car and put him in the back seat. I made sure the child safety locks were engaged on the car and, leaving Lula to guard the now-passed out Michael, then went back into the Minetti house to thank Mrs. Minetti for her help in the capture. "He will now have to wait until he can talk to the judge and have his court date rescheduled. That shouldn't take too long. Once that happens, he can be rebonded out. Connie or Vinnie from the office can do that."

"My husband and I have agreed this has gone on too long. We won't be rebonding him out. He has made his bed and now he has to lie in it." I nodded my head. I could understand where she was coming from. She said "wait", ran inside the house again, and brought out another bag of banana-chocolate chip muffins and a banana cream pie. "For you", she said. She handed the bounty to me and said how much she appreciated me bringing her son back to jail. I thanked her. I was glad I was bringing Minetti in – I could use the money to build up my savings after buying the car – but I sure would miss all the baked goods.

Lula and I drove Minetti to the station, parking the car in a police-only parking lot next to the station. I put my Police Association Supporter sticker in the window and hoped for the best. With having a new car I knew the police would not recognize what I was driving, and as such I wasn't sure that my car wouldn't get towed. I asked Lula to stay at the car to look after it. Lula was happy with this arrangement. Her past experience as a 'ho has left her with a revulsion for police stations. She says she gets the heebie-jeebies just being near one and she avoids going in them whenever possible. I took my car keys with me when I went in the station just in case. It wouldn't be the first time I came out to find that Lula had taken off in my car while I was inside.

I half walked, half dragged Minetti to the docket officer. I was able to cuff Minetti to the bench before he passed out again. Presenting my Right to Apprehend papers to the docket officer, I got my body receipt. I returned to the car to see Lula frantically trying to hot-wire it. I got a banana-chocolate chip muffin out of the bag and handed it to her. If anybody looked like they needed happy food, it was Lula. And anything with chocolate in it was classed as happy food in my book.

We drove back to the office, bringing in the remaining muffins for Connie as well as my body receipt. Connie wrote me a cheque. I kept the banana cream pie for dinner. "It's too bad that we won't be getting any more baked goods", Connie said. "That Mrs. Minetti can sure bake".

"WHAM! We got one person brought in. I told you your new car would bring us luck. Who do you want to bring in now?" Lula questioned.

"How about Brodie? Tomorrow we can go to Point Pleasant to look for Paulo."

I ran down to the deli and got a turkey club sandwich for Connie; a Rueben sandwich, a family-sized tub of macaroni salad and another of potato salad for Lula; and, a corned beef sandwich and a pickle for me. I also bought a big bag of kettle chips for all of us to share, and two waters for Connie and I and a diet soft drink for Lula. "I can eat all this," Lula said, "because I am having a diet drink. I won't be having all that sugar. That means I won't get fat." I didn't have the heart to tell her that eating a meal large enough to feed a family of four would probably negate the calories saved through drinking a diet soda.

After lunch, Lula and I went after Brodie. A lot of skip chasing is done over the phone and internet, before we actually physically go to the location where the skip is. It had been a few days since we had performed a search for him though, so we had to start our search all over again. The first thing I did was phone his work, to talk to the airline company that he flies with. When I got through to his superior, however, I found out that Brodie was on a leave of absence. "He was flying a lot of hours, and his temper just started to get worse and worse. He was especially taking it out on the female staff. Throwing the coffee was just one example of how unpredictable he was becoming. He was always a bit hot-headed, you know, but it was getting out of hand. So we gave him a leave of absence to give him some time to pull himself together. We set up appointments for him to visit the company psychologist. It was either that or fire him. And his union would not like it if we fired him."

"Did he mention whether he had any plans? Like was he hanging around Trenton, or was he taking any trips?" I asked.

"He didn't mention a trip. And even if he was taking a trip, it would have to be a very short one. He is seeing the psychologist twice per week."

After getting the contact information for the psychologist, I thanked the supervisor and got off the phone. I then called Dr. Fineman, the psychologist. He was in a session with a patient, so I left a message asking him to call me back. I did not expect much information from him due to patient confidentiality, but I wanted to try anyway.

"No help on the phone lines." I told Lula about Brodie's forced leave of absence. "Do you want to saddle up, so that we can see if we can find Brodie at home?" I questioned Lula.

"Sure. They say he's got an anger management problem? Bring him on. I can out-temper his ass. There ain't nobody who can get the better of me."

We got in the car and drove to Brodie's house. We parked a couple of houses down the street. I didn't want Brodie to figure out the car I was driving in case we were unsuccessful in picking him up. If he knew my car, it would make my job more difficult the next time around.

We waited for a few minutes, taking the temperature of the neighbourhood. It was quiet. All the children were in school, and all the adults were at work. We looked at Brodie's house. It was well maintained. Brodie had finished planting the flowers and he had painted his front door since we were there last. It looked like he was in the process of painting the shutters.

His car was missing from the driveway. It was doubtful that Brodie was home.

We walked up to his front door anyway, waiting on the front porch as we rang the doorbell. There was no sound in the house. Lula left me to look in the windows while I waited, but neither of us were able to see any sign of life. We gave up, and sat in the car to wait for Brodie to return.

Midway through a game of Twenty Questions I got a return call from Dr. Fineman. I explained that I was calling about Pete Brodie, and that I was representing his bail bonds office.

"I'm always happy to cooperate, but I'm not sure how much I can help. Patient confidentiality restricts me from sharing too much", he said.

"I understand about confidentiality. I need to find him, however. He has missed his court date and needs to go in to reschedule." I paused. "Do you know where I can find him?"

"I don't know where he is right at this moment. I do know that he is working on facing situations that have made him angry in the past, so you may find him challenging himself by attempting a different behaviour in a similar situation."

"Do you think that he will be successful?" I asked.

"Yes, I think there is a good probability that he will be successful. He has found a focus over the last couple of days that is helping him overcome his anger. He is making great strides in therapy. I anticipate that he will be back at work soon."

"How often does he go to therapy?"

"He comes twice per week, on Mondays and Thursdays", he said. I got off the phone and relayed the conversation to Lula.

After we finished our game of Twenty Questions, we became bored. "I have to tinkle", said Lula, "and I wouldn't mind a coffee. And a doughnut. Wouldn't a coffee and doughnut be good while we wait here for this guy to show up? Isn't there a coffee shop around here somewhere?" I knew there was – that was the shop in which Brodie had thrown the coffee. We left our post in front of Brodie's house and drove to the coffee shop. We headed inside, walking straight to the back to the ladies' room. When we were finished, we walked up to the front to join the line waiting to be served. After scanning the menu boards and selecting what I was going to order, I looked at the other patrons in the shop. Two people in front of me was Brodie, money in hand as he waited to be served. I pointed Brodie out to Lula and quietly transferred my cuffs and stun gun to my pocket. We walked up behind Brodie and I snagged a wrist and snapped on a cuff. "Bond enforcement", I said in his ear, and I went to snag his second wrist. Brodie looked back at me, yanked himself out of my grasp, and threw his money into my face. Out of surprise I jumped back and blinked my eyes. As soon as the money hit the ground all the patrons bent down to pick it up. It resembled a feeding frenzy at the zoo.


	6. Chapter 6

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 10

**Chapter Six**

The next day I woke up with clean laundry on my dresser and the sounds of my father and grandmother fighting for the right to use the bathroom first. My mother was already in the kitchen, and the smells of fresh coffee and frying bacon wafted up the stairs. I was home, and some things never change.

"I'm an old lady. I don't have good bladder control any more", cried my grandmother. "I should get to use the bathroom first."

"I have to get my cab over to pick up my first fare. Timmy relies on me to get him to the station in time for the train. I need to get going." My father is retired from the post office. For sanity's sake, when he retired he had the choice of either killing my grandmother or taking another job. He decided to become a cab driver. He has a few fares he drives in the morning and after work, and he spends the majority of the time in between at his social club playing cards. It is an arrangement that keeps everyone somewhat stress-free, with the only arguments happening in the fight for the bathroom in the morning. Rather than get up five minutes earlier, my father and grandmother choose to duke it out as part of their morning routine. The yelling meant there was no danger of sleeping in at my parents' house. I got out of bed and stumbled down to the kitchen, bleary-eyed, and poured myself a cup of coffee. I sat down at the table. "One egg or two?" my mother asked. I asked for one egg and winced as I heard the slamming of the bathroom door and my dad roaring out loud in frustration. Apparently my grandmother had been successful in sneaking past my father and making it into the bathroom first. There was banging on the bathroom door, and yelling in Italian. I don't know many Italian words, but I was pretty good on recognizing the swear words. These were definitely swear words.

A few minutes later my grandmother came down the stairs. "I don't know why you had to marry someone who is so unreasonable", she complained to my mom. "I just had to go to the bathroom. And brush my teeth. And my hair. And wash my face. Not much. It's not like I went to have a shower. Is that so unreasonable to let an old lady go first?"

My dad raced out downstairs. "I have no time for breakfast this morning", he said. "I have to get to Timmy's house or he'll miss the train." He grabbed a travel mug of coffee that my mom had prepared and ran out of the house. He went to get in the car and froze, looking back at the house, halfway in the car and halfway out, mouth hanging open. "Stephanie!" he bellowed, and pointed at the house. He looked at his watch and shook his head. "Take care of this", he said and got the rest of the way in the car and drove away.

Still in my pyjamas and with my hair uncombed, I walked out of the house down to the sidewalk and looked back towards the front porch. The house had been graffitied. The word "cunt" had been spray painted across the front of the house, and "bitch" was spray painted across the front door.

I went inside the house and finished my coffee and ate my breakfast. I had a shower and got ready for the day, dressing in a pair of clean jeans, a t-shirt and a hoody. I did all this in a simmering anger. It is one thing to leave me creepy voicemails and even to vandalize my apartment, but it is another thing when that vandalism extends to my parents' house. My parents' house is supposed to be the safe place, the place where nothing happens. I was angry, very angry, that this vandal had found me. And I was even angrier that he had infringed upon my feeling of security.

Once I was ready for the day, I called the police and went to wait for them on the front stoop. Morelli was the first to arrive. He parked behind my car and surveyed the front of the house for a few minutes, hands on hips and with a serious, show-no-feeling cop face. When he was finished, he came over to me and gave me a quick kiss. "Are you okay, Cupcake?" he asked.

"Yeah. I was asleep when it happened. I'm just mad. My parents' house should be sacred, you know? I feel guilty. I brought this on them. I feel like it is my fault."

"This is only your fault if you were the person who did the painting. Do you have any sense of who might have done this? Can you at least give me a list of potential suspects?"

"I think it would be easier to tell you who wouldn't be on the list than who would. I'm not searching for any vandals right now, though, so I don't have any obvious suggestions", I said.

Two uniforms arrived in their car and started taking pictures to attach to their incident report. They came over to talk to Morelli and me. Morelli repeated everything I had told him. When the report was prepared and I signed it, my mom came out of the house and offered coffee to Morelli and the other officers. The uniforms politely turned down the invitation, but Morelli decided to come in for a few minutes to talk to my mother and grandmother. I poured Morelli a coffee and doctored it with cream and sugar while he questioned them.

"This obviously happened last night", he began. "Did either of you hear a noise at all? Did you wake up for no reason?"

"I'm old", my grandmother said. "I always wake up. But I don't remember hearing anything in particular." My mother also could not help identify a time that it happened. Morelli asked whether either my grandmother or mother could identify anyone unusual hanging around the house or in the neighbourhood. "Nope. And I look out the front door a lot", said my grandmother. They both promised to keep their eyes open and call the police if they saw anything suspicious.

I walked Morelli to his car. "So, do you think it is safe for me to go back to my apartment?" I asked. "Although vandalism and harassment are not comfortable, they also won't hurt me. I can put up with harassment. I don't really care what happens to me as long as it doesn't spill over onto my family. And I don't want to take the chance that this could happen again – or even that something worse could happen – here."

Morelli sighed. "It seems like you aren't really safe anywhere. I wish my parents weren't with me, so that you could come to my place." He paused. "I guess your apartment is as good a place to live as anywhere. Be aware, though. Stay safe. We don't know if this person will escalate from vandalism and harassment." He gave me a kiss that made me wish his parents weren't staying with him too, then turned around and went back to work.

I called the cleaners to come in to remove the graffiti, and packed Rex and my clean laundry in the car. Just as I was getting into my car Ranger's 911 Porsche Turbo slid in behind me. He got out of the car, came over, and gave me a friendly kiss. He looked at my parents' house. "Are your parents redecorating, Babe?" he asked.

"They are now", I replied. "You're back – how was Canada?"

"Accommodating. The skip is now back where he is supposed to be. What's going on here?" he said, looking at the graffiti.

I told Ranger about the calls. And I told Ranger about my spray painted bedroom window. And I told him how frustrated I was by the fact that the vandal followed me to my parents' house and infringed upon my safe zone.

"You still have my place as a safe zone, Babe. You can always come stay with me." That was true. But while I would be safe from vandalism and harassment, I would be in danger in a completely different way. And as nice as it would be, it wasn't worth my relationship with Morelli to stay with Ranger.

Ranger turned to my new car. "Nice. Hal installed the tracker the other night, so you are all set. Good choice on the colour. Try not to blow this one up, okay?" His eyes crinkled slightly in a small smile. I don't know why everyone seems to think they need to warn me not to blow up my car. I have only exploded eight or nine of them. The rest of my cars have all been stolen, vandalized or in car accidents. And it's not like I planned on any of those explosions happening.

"Are you going back to your place now?" Ranger asked.

"I was thinking of taking Rex home before I go in to work. I promised Lula that we would go to the shore today to look for Paulo Rosolli."

"I'll follow you to check out your apartment. We can see if there are any more calls on your answering machine."

Ranger followed me back and carried Rex's cage up to my apartment. I carried my clean laundry.

The door to my apartment was slightly ajar. Ranger put Rex's cage on the hall floor, motioned me to the side of the door, withdrew his gun from his holster, and entered the apartment. He checked the entire apartment, including closets, behind the shower curtain, and under the bed. "Dust bunnies are your only unwanted guests", he said. "And some pictures on the dining room table." He went outside and picked up Rex, putting his cage on the kitchen counter. Then he came over to look at the photos with me. There were six photos, all blown up onto letter size paper. Three were of me sleeping in my apartment. And three were of me sleeping at my parents' house. The ones from the apartment were taken from the fire escape. The ones from my parents' house must have been taken from the tree outside the window in the backyard.

I had so many emotions running through me. I was creeped out knowing someone had watched me while I slept. And I was angry, again, that this person was affecting more than just me. Coming to my parents' house meant the harassment was now spilling over onto their lives. And I try, no matter how crazy my life is, to make sure it doesn't affect my family. And, finally, I was glad I wasn't drooling or doing something equally as embarrassing in the photos.

I listened to my messages. There were two messages. One hang-up, one "Steph-an-nie", and a second one, a longer one from the Steph-an-nie person that said "Did you like my surprise? Do you like me watching you? Now you know what it feels like, you fucking cunt, to have someone after you. Leave me alone."

"I think it's time to call Morelli", Ranger said. "It's like this person has become a combination of a harasser and a stalker. He is progressing, becoming more dangerous. His language, his tone, show that he is getting angry. And I don't have a good feel as to what this person wants other than for you to leave him alone. The pictures show a sexual bent to things, while the graffiti has more of an angry bent. I would be happier if you stayed with me until you capture this person. Especially since you can't stay with Morelli right now."

I called Morelli, and told him about this newest threat. He said that he would be there within the half hour. I told him Ranger and I would wait for him. He was there in ten minutes.

"I have a full work load just keeping up with you!" Morelli said when he saw me. He said "hi" to Ranger and came over to me to give me a quick kiss. Ranger told him about the door being open when we got in, and showed Morelli the pictures. Morelli turned red and stared at his shoe as he fought to get himself under control. Once his temper had subsided, we played the messages on the answering machine. Morelli turned red again, and went to look out the living room window for a few minutes.

"You can come stay at my place", Morelli said. "You can sleep on the couch. I can sleep on the floor. And Grandma Bella would be safer than this joker."

"No way", I responded. In my mind, Grandma Bella was far scarier than the stalker.

"You could stay with your parents again", Morelli suggested.

"No", I answered. "I'm not bringing this on my parents again. They need to be safe."

"Or you could stay at my place", said Ranger. "You'd be safe there." Ranger took one look at Morelli's face and said "Just throwing it out there. It may be the best solution if she won't go to your place or back to her parents' home."

"No", I said. "I will stay here. I won't bring this filth into my parents' home again. And I will not bring it into either of your homes. The person is threatening, but I can take the phone off the hook again. And I will close my curtains at night. And I will triple check the locks on my door before I go to sleep. I should be okay. All this person really has done is phone me, take pictures of me and spray paint ugly words about me. Compared to many threats I have had in the past, this person seems kind of tame. I don't really feel like I am in danger. I just am a bit creeped out by it all. And I'm angry."

Neither man was happy with my decision, but I felt better having made it. I gave the photos to Morelli to add to my growing file, fed Rex a baby carrot, and closed and locked the door behind me as we all went down to the parking lot.


	7. Chapter 7

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Seven **

I met up with Lula outside the bonds office to go to Point Pleasant. "I'm ready!" she exclaimed. "I have sunscreen, a beach umbrella, magazines to read, towels to lie on, and a hat."

"But we won't be lying in the sun. Not only is it a little too cool yet, but we are going to work. We are checking out some of the properties that Paulo owns."

"Hunh. I knew that", she said. We went to Cluck in a Bucket for some lunch on the way out of town. I ordered a Clucky Burger combo with a diet cola, and Lula ordered a bucket of extra crispy, a large fry, two orders of biscuits and extra gravy, a side of coleslaw, and a diet cola. We sat in the parking lot as we ate our meal. I finished long before Lula. I got rid of my garbage and started the car. Lula could finish her meal while I drove.

The day was beautiful and traffic was light getting to the coast. "See, I knew this car would be lucky", Lula said. "You have had it for two days now, and you haven't had any bad luck yet". 

"Actually, I have a vandal stalking me right now. He keeps harassing me on the phone to the point where I have to take my phone off the hook, and has progressed to spray painting nasty words both on my apartment bedroom window and on my parents' house while I am sleeping. While I don't think the car has brought me bad luck, I don't think it has brought me good luck either."

"But at least you brought Minetti in", Lula pointed out. That's true, but I think that was more related to him drinking a bottle of Jack's rather than due to any luck from my car. "And you haven't blown up your car yet."

We got to Point Pleasant and, due to the coolness in the temperature, were able to secure some on-street parking half a block away from the shore. If it had been the middle of summer it would have been impossible to park closer than a half dozen blocks away. We were happy to get the spot. It was a really good spot.

Once on the boardwalk, we strolled past all the booths that were still closed for the winter. I pulled out the list of businesses Paulo owned, and we decided we would tackle the businesses together. Going door-to-door, we talked to someone in each of the businesses. We introduced ourselves, and explained that Paulo had forgotten to show up for his court date. And I explained that he needed to come in to reschedule. No one at the businesses had seen Paulo recently, though. Most said the last time they had seen Paulo had been when they submitted their annual post-dated rent cheques. At least one person was lying, as Paulo had to be running numbers out of one of the stores. I didn't have a good idea who that person was, however, and it would be impossible to keep all of the businesses under surveillance, even if Lula and I split up.

We then tackled the residential properties. We got lucky with the first two residents – they were home. The first couple was in their sixties, newly retired and, judging by the bags in the front hallway, planning on taking a trip. Neither person recognized Paulo.

The second house contained a single lady with two toddlers. The toddlers were sucking their thumbs and hanging onto the pant legs of their mother. The mother did not recognize Paulo. She said she rented the house through a company. I gave her my card and asked her to call me if she saw Paulo, even if it was in the grocery store or walking along the street. "Is he dangerous?" she asked, clutching the hand of one of her toddlers and picking up the other for a cuddle.

"No. He was arrested on racketeering charges. It is just important for him to reschedule his court date as he is considered a felon until he does." We thanked her for her help and went to the third house. There was no answer at the door. We checked the driveway but there was no car. We looked in the windows but didn't see anyone.

We went to the fourth house and found the same thing. No car, nobody that we could see through the windows. We went on to the fifth house.

At the fifth house the lights were on and there was a car in the driveway. We crept around the house and looked in all the windows. Paulo was in the kitchen. It appeared that he was making dinner and he was alone. We crept around the house to the front door while I pulled out my cuffs and stun gun and put them in my pocket, all the time whispering-arguing about how we would approach Paulo. I wanted to go the direct route and simply introduce ourselves and ask for him to go to the station with us. Lula wanted us to pretend to be hookers. I didn't think that would fly. While Lula was dressed in her usual provocative manner, my jeans and modest t-shirt would quickly reveal I wasn't a 'ho. I didn't see any reason to pretend.

I rang the doorbell. Paulo came to the door. Lula cocked a hip and pushed out her chest in a manner reminiscent of her days as a 'ho. I did no such posturing. I introduced myself. "My name is Stephanie Plum and I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds." Lula took in a quick breath as I introduced myself. This was not going the way she had envisioned it. "You missed your court date and I have to take you back in to reschedule."

"I don't think so", Paulo said. He tried to close the door, but I got my foot in the way before he could shut it.

"You don't understand. If you don't come in to schedule, Connie could lose her job. She wrote bad bond for you. Now it's not just about you. It's about Connie as well." Lula looked at me quizzically at that, but luckily didn't question me about what I meant in front of Paulo.

At hearing about Connie's predicament, Paulo paused. "You and who else are taking me in?"

"Just the two of us", I replied.

"Just the two of you? How will it look if a member of the mob is taken in with only two females capturing him?"

"It will look like you care about your cousin. Look, you play, you pay. Lula and I have taken members of the mob in before, and we will do so again. It's your turn to come in now. I grabbed one of his wrists and snapped a cuff on him. He started to struggle. I took out my stun gun, quickly turned it on and stunned him. His body went stiff for a minute, then collapsed in a heap on the floor. He slowly wet himself and drool dribbled out of his mouth. I snapped the other cuff on and left Lula to look after him.

I went back into the kitchen and turned off the stove. I put the food back into the fridge and looked for the keys to the house. I found them tossed on the counter near the back door. Checking the locks to make sure the back door was secure, I walked back to Lula. I gave Lula the keys to my car and dragged Paulo out of the doorway so that I could shut and lock the front door. I sat on the steps and waited with Paulo as Lula went to get my car. Paulo slowly came to in the cool air, neurons starting to fire in sequence again. As he came to he let out an impressive stream of Italian swear words.

"Relax. You'll get bonded out again. But Connie won't be able to write bad bond this time. The collateral that you will need to secure the bond will have to be worth more. That shouldn't be a problem for you, though, as you have a number of properties you could use to secure the bond. When I get you to the station I will call Vinnie for you. I am leaving Connie out of the transaction so she doesn't get in trouble again. Just don't tell Vinnie what Connie did last time, okay? He doesn't know and we would like to keep it that way. I'm serious when I say she would lose her job if Vinnie knew."

Lula arrived and we moved Paulo to the back of the car, putting his seat belt on for him before shutting the door. I drove Lula back to the bonds office, letting her out so that she could go home for the day, then drove Paulo to the police station, moving him into the station and cuffing him to the bench. I got my body receipt and, once back in the car, phoned Vinnie to let him know that Paulo was available to be bonded out again. I then phoned Connie to let her know Paulo had been captured. "Thank God", she cried. "I have been losing sleep over this. I know that working for Vinnie isn't a great job, but it is _my_ job and I am used to it. I know how to get around Vinnie and I can supplement my income out of petty cash any time I want. I don't want to lose it over something as silly as this."

I drove home, stopping at Giovichinni's on the way home. I picked up some beer, orange juice, bagels, butter, worthless fruit-flavoured cereal, six frozen microwave dinners, milk, cream, coffee, and more carrots and raisins for Rex. I hadn't been shopping in a while, and I hadn't brought home any doggie bags from my mother's when I left that morning. All I really had left to eat in the apartment were banana muffins, banana bread and a couple of bananas that were going black.

I carried my groceries up to my apartment. The door was shut and locked when I got there. I took that to be a good sign. I opened up the door, balancing the groceries and beer as I did so. I put the groceries on the kitchen counter and went and locked the door. Remembering my promise to shut the curtains at night, I walked over to the windows. I shut one side of the curtains, then walked over to the other side. By mistake I knocked a magazine off a side table as I walked past. As I bent down to pick it up I heard a crack followed by a shatter. Glass rained down on me as I heard two more reports. In shock, it took me a few seconds to figure out what had happened. Someone was shooting at me through the windows. I crawled on my belly over to the kitchen, cutting my arms as I made a path through the broken glass. Staying down, I pulled my purse off the counter in the kitchen and took out my stun gun and my pepper spray and put them within easy reach. Then I stretched up a hand and groped blindly for the phone. Getting it, I called Morelli first to report the shots. Then I called Ranger. I stayed huddled on the floor of the kitchen until they came.


	8. Chapter 8

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 9

**Chapter Eight**

Ranger was the first to arrive. He came to the door and knocked, calling out to me that he was coming in. He entered the apartment on a crouch, gun drawn, and came through to the kitchen. He looked down at me, and the blood that was dribbling down my lower arms. "Are you okay, Babe?" he asked.

"Yes." I started to shake in reaction.

"Do you need an EMT?"

"No. They are just scrapes."

"Is there any glass still in those scrapes? Are there any other places on your body that are scraped besides your arms?" he asked.

"It doesn't feel like it. My shirt should have protected my belly from any glass entering. My jeans protected my legs. It is only my arms that got scraped", I replied, taking a deep breath to calm myself.

"Okay. I will look at them later." He took my hand and duck-walked me back to the front door and out into the hall. As we got into the hall, Morelli came running down to see us.

"I have uniforms scouting the area to see if we can find anybody that looks suspicious. I suspect, however, that the shooter is long gone. He looked down at me, noticing the blood trickling down my arms. "Do you need an EMT?"

"No", I replied.

"Okay. Can you tell me exactly what happened?" He reached into his pocket and took out some Rolaids, popping them in his mouth as he listened to me.

I told him about going grocery shopping and coming in with my arms full. About putting my groceries and purse on the counter in the kitchen. And about locking the door and closing the curtains like I had promised.

"Did you see anything out of the ordinary as you entered the building? Did you see anything out the window as you were closing the curtains?" asked Morelli.

"No, nothing. It was dark", I replied.

"And you were lit up from behind like a little beacon when you closed those curtains. Damn, I wish you would come stay at my place", Morelli said.

"I'm not going to bring this on you or your family. I will be fine to stay here."

"You aren't fine to stay here!" said both Morelli and Ranger angrily at the same time.

"Sure I am. He has already shot at me. What more can he do to me?"

"He could kill you the next time, Babe", Ranger said. Morelli just looked at me dumbfounded and shook his head.

Dillon got out of the elevator and came over to see us. "I heard you were shot at", he said. "Is there glass all over?"

"Yes", I replied.

"Bummer. I will get insurance in tomorrow to look at it, and will fix it as soon as I can."

"You don't even have a window now. Even though the days are warm it is still getting quite cold at night. You will freeze. That's another reason not to stay here", Morelli pointed out.

"There will be a board over it, won't there?" I questioned Dillon.

"Nope. Not until the insurance company can look at it tomorrow. We have to preserve the crime scene as much as possible for them", he replied.

"Do you have any better idea who is doing this?" Morelli asked.

"Well, out of the three active skips I was chasing when the phone calls started, two I have captured and there is only one outstanding. I have three or so more skips I haven't started to work on, and I think Connie mentioned there were some more files for me to pick up tomorrow. Those are the current files. I haven't gone over the list of people I have caught in the past, who may have been released from jail recently. Really, it could be anyone."

"Who is the skip that is still outstanding?" Morelli asked.

"Pete Brodie." I turned to Ranger. "He's an airline pilot with an anger management problem", I explained.

"Really? You got Paulo Rosolli?" Ranger asked.

"Yup. Got him this evening. He is probably being bonded out again as we speak."

"Congratulations. I know he was hard to find, Babe", said Ranger.

Morelli looked at my Right-to-Apprehend papers for Brodie and copied down his contact information. "Now, what will you do tonight?"

I said that I was staying at the apartment at the same time as Ranger said that I was going to his place. We looked at each other and said "no way" at the same time. Morelli looked at us and shook his head.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I would feel better having you at Ranger's apartment than I would having you stay here. At least there I know you will still be alive tomorrow morning."

The uniforms reported in to Morelli that they couldn't find anybody that looked suspicious. However, they were able to find some shell casings on the ground. They showed the evidence bag to Morelli.

"I recognize those casings. They are from a long-range sniper rifle", Ranger said. "I've used one of those before. They are deadly accurate over long distances. You were lucky that you bent over to pick up that magazine or we would be here with the medical examiner right now. Come to my place, Babe. You don't have anything to prove by staying here and it isn't safe."

Now that we were reasonably sure the sniper had escaped, we walked back into my apartment. Morelli and Ranger walked over to look at the broken glass, and inspected the walls to find the bullets. I walked into the kitchen and started to put my groceries away, all the while thinking about what Ranger and Morelli had said. I still wasn't convinced it was unsafe to stay in my apartment. Now that the shock had worn off, I was wondering whether we were blowing this all a little out of proportion. After all, it was just a harasser and vandal who had gotten mad and shot at me. It was probably an once-in-a-lifetime thing for the guy. I probably wasn't in any real danger.

I couldn't even call him a stalker in my mind. Morelli and Ranger were calling him a stalker, but that seemed much too serious a name for what this guy was doing. He was just harassing me through phone calls and painting rude words. In my mind, I was already discounting the shots he took at me. My mind simply couldn't cope with the idea that I was in any danger.

I caught the blinking light on my answering machine, indicating that I had messages, out of the corner of my eye. Turning to the machine, I pressed play and listened to my messages. There was a message from a chimney sweep. Go figure. There was the sound of a boat horn, and the offer of reduced cruise packages. And there was a message from my harasser. Morelli and Ranger came over to listen to the recording with me. "Steph-an-nie. I warned you what would happen if you came after me. You must die now. That is my new mission. I will not stop until I am successful. This is your warning", and the caller hung up.

A shiver ran down my spine. "Okay, you win. I'll stay with you until this guy is caught", I said to Ranger. I went to the bedroom and grabbed a bag of clothes, and to the bathroom to grab some toiletries. I packed a small container of food for Rex and tucked it into my bag.

Ranger didn't say anything. No "okay", no "I told you so", no "good". He just took my car keys from me, picked up Rex's cage, and started for the hall. "I'll meet you in a couple of minutes in the lobby and I will walk you to your car. Then I'll follow you to my place", he said as he walked out the door.

I turned to Morelli. "I'm sorry", I said. "This is getting away from me. I was thinking I was safe, that you were just making a mountain out of a molehill for nothing. But that message on the answering machine makes it sound so much more sinister. It makes it sound like I _am_ in danger. And mixed with the guy taking pot shots…"

"You don't have to convince me, Cupcake. My instinct all along has been that this guy is trouble. Go with Ranger. I'll finish up doing my cop thing here and I'll lock up after everyone leaves. I'll look into Brodie tonight, before I go home. I want whomever this is behind bars as quickly as possible. I don't take kindly to people shooting at my girlfriend." He smiled. "Make sure you sleep on the couch tonight. Just because I agreed that Ranger's is the safest place for you right now doesn't mean I have to like it." He moved into the bathroom, pulling me with him. He gave me a long, deep kiss, pulling the base of my spine in towards him until there was no space between us. My nipples started to tingle and I think I might have moaned. He eased away from me. "Think of me tonight, Cupcake", he whispered. He gave me a quick kiss and gently pushed me towards the door.


	9. Chapter 9

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 13

**Chapter Nine **

Ranger deposited Rex's cage on the breakfast bar in between the kitchen and the dining room and went to get the first aid kit. I put my bag on the floor of the hall. I didn't know where I would be sleeping. In the past I have periodically had the need to use Ranger's place as a safe house. Each time I have determined I would sleep on the couch, but partway through the night I have found myself in Ranger's bed. Sometimes this is because Ranger has moved me over in my sleep, at other times it is because I have been drawn by the soft sheets and the quilt that is just the right warmth and weight. Ranger has a pretty fantastic bed. It is king sized, so we could technically both sleep in it without bothering the other person. However, I know from experience that, no matter how much I try to stay on my side of the bed, I always wake up intertwined with Ranger. And I know from experience that I like it. It would be an orgasmic situation if I didn't already have an understanding with Morelli. However, since I did it, it was just guilt-inducing.

Ranger looked at my bag on the floor and smiled to himself. Ranger doesn't smile a lot. He more thinks about smiling, and sometimes you can see the corners of his mouth twitching and his eyes crinkling. To get a full-on smile is always a surprise. This was a mouth-twitching smile.

He got a clean cloth and wet it with warm water before washing the blood off my arms. He inspected the cuts for glass, and applied antiseptic. When he was finished he put the kit away, then walked through to the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. Inside were a selection of sandwiches, cut vegetables and pieces of fruit. He removed an assortment of food and put it on the breakfast bar. He opened a bottle of red wine and poured a couple of glasses, then got out some plates and some dressing for the vegetables. We sat down to our feast.

"You are doing the right thing by staying here, you know", Ranger said. "As much as you don't want to think it, you _are_ in danger, Babe. And I am happy you are in a place where no one can get to you."

"But if I hid here every time someone threatened me, I would be living here permanently."

"That would be good, too. At least I would know you are safe."

"You would let me live here permanently?" I asked, shocked.

"Yeah, I can definitely see sharing closet space. But I know you like to keep your own place. And I know you and Morelli have an understanding of some sort. Whenever you want, though, and especially when you are in danger, you are always welcome to stay here. Even if I am not here, you are welcome to stay. I just ask that you let Tank know first."

"What are you saying? I thought you didn't _want_ promises and fidelity. Doesn't my staying here smack of commitment?"

"It doesn't seem to matter what I _want_. What I _need_ is to know you are safe. And if having you here at my place means I know you are safe, then it means you should stay with me." He stood up and cleaned up our dinner, signalling the end of the conversation. Ranger had as much of a commitment phobia as I did.

Once the dishes were in the dishwasher and the leftover food was put back into the refrigerator, Ranger went into the hall and picked up my bag. He carried it into his bedroom and put it on the floor in his closet. He then went into the office and sat on the couch, turning on the TV. I went and sat down at the other end of the couch. I couldn't get comfortable. I tried stretching out my legs. I tried curling up in a ball. Ranger stretched his arm along the back of the couch. I fidgeted some more. He watched me for a few minutes, then reached over and grabbed me. He dragged me over until my back was nestled into his side with my head leaning on his shoulder. His arm came around me in a hug with his hand resting on my abdomen and he flipped through the channels until he found a baseball game. Finally comfortable, we settled down to watch the Yankees play the Blue Jays.

Midway through the game my cell phone rang. I tensed up before I remembered that the stalker didn't have my cell phone number. I answered the phone to hear Morelli's voice. "I went by Brodie's house, but he wasn't home. I will try again tomorrow. Is everything alright there?"

"Yup. Just sitting on the couch watching a ballgame. It's quiet here. Are you going home now?"

"Yeah. My mom saved me dinner. I think Grandma Bella made tongue casserole."

I shuddered. To me, tongue is one of those cuts of meat that should be made into dog food. I don't think it is something that is suitable for human consumption. But tongue casserole is one of Grandma Bella's specialities, and Morelli loved it.

When I got off the phone, Ranger said "everything okay there, Babe? I think I felt a full body shudder." I explained about the tongue. "There is only one thing that I want to do with a tongue", Ranger said, "and it's not a cow tongue I am thinking of." Oh boy.

After the game I asked Ranger for a spare pillow and blanket. "I can give you one", he said, "but I will just carry you into my bed once you are asleep. Are you sure you don't want to just start out in my bed? You'll be more comfortable. I promise to stay on my side and keep my hands to myself if you stay on yours." And see, that is the problem. Because once I am in Ranger's bed I find it very hard to stay on my side. And I find it very hard to keep my hands to myself.

I decided on a compromise. I asked for a spare pillow, and I put it down on the bed to divide the two sides. I then put my pyjamas on and finished up in the bathroom while Ranger put on a pair of boxer shorts. Ranger in clothes is gorgeous - all hard where muscles should be. Ranger out of clothes is even better. Trying not to whimper when I saw him, I climbed into the bed and lay stiff as a board, listening to him finishing up in the bathroom and trying not to think about how good he looked in his boxers. I pretended to be asleep when he came out. Without meaning to, I was getting aroused thinking about him and I was mad at myself for it.

Ranger got into bed. Over my fake snores I could hear the smile in his voice as he softly said "good night".

I woke up the next morning at the sound of Ranger's watch alarm. I was lying on Ranger's side of the bed. One of my hands was on his chest, the other down the front of his boxers, and I had a leg hooked around his knees. My nose was pressed into his shoulder and I think I licked his chest as I was waking up. I effectively had him in a Vulcan grip that he would not be able to get out of without my cooperation.

I could hear a rumble coming from Ranger's chest as he was trying not to laugh. He reached over and turned off the alarm. "I woke up a few minutes ago, but I couldn't figure out how to get out of this hold without waking you." I quickly moved back over to my side, checking to make sure that my pyjamas were on the right way. My face burned hot in embarrassment.

Ranger got up and went to the bathroom for his shower. A few minutes later he came out, freshly shaved and showered, a towel around his middle. I watched him as he crossed the room to his closet. "I just had a very cold shower, Babe. But if you keep looking at me like that, I'll have to take another one", he said. He emerged from the closet wearing his Rangeman uniform of a black long-sleeved t-shirt embroidered with the Rangeman logo and black fatigue pants, with his gun at his waist. He went to the phone and called down to Ella, his housekeeper, to let her know there would be two for breakfast.

I used the bathroom while I waited for Ella to bring up breakfast. When she came up she had a bouquet of flowers in her arms. "I knew Stephanie was here", she said. "There was this enormous bouquet of flowers waiting for her at Reception this morning. I brought them up for you and I brought up a vase so you could put them in water. It's always so nice to get flowers." Depositing the breakfast and the morning mail on the counter in the kitchen, she passed the flowers over to me before leaving the apartment.

Ranger came over to me and lifted the flowers, looking for a card. I found the card first and opened it. It said, "you can run, but you can't hide. Next time you are in my sights, you are dead." My face turned white and the card slipped down to the table through my fingertips. Ranger guided me onto a chair and pushed my head between my knees. "Push up against my hand with your head, Babe", he said, continuing to hold my head down. After a few moments I told him that I was alright, and that I could sit up again.

I looked at Ranger. He had white lines bracketing his mouth and the tension around his eyes and in the set of his shoulders showed how upset he was. Breakfast forgotten, he walked over to the phone and called Reception. After speaking to Ralph, the security guard on duty, he got off the phone and passed the information on to me. "Ralph said the flowers were left at the front door this morning. They were there on the ground when he came on duty. Ella had come down to pick up my mail and saw the flowers there. Figuring out you were here, she offered to bring them up."

Ranger then called the control room. He requested a copy of the tape from the security cameras in Reception for the past twelve hours. While we waited for the tape to be sent up to Ranger's computer, we ate a now-cold breakfast.

After breakfast, I went to have a quick shower while Ranger started going through the tape. I washed, towelled off, got dressed, pulled my wet hair back into a ponytail, brushed my teeth, and gunked up my lashes with mascara. I always find that the more mascara I have on, the greater my confidence level. I put three coats on today. I figured I would need all the bravado that I could get. I went out to join Ranger.

"Did you find anything?" I asked.

"Not much." Ranger sounded frustrated. "We have our guy coming up to the door around five this morning and, when he tries the door and finds that it is locked, he leaves the flowers on the ground. But we can't make out anything." He showed me the shots. "He was able to hide his face from the rear camera, but the front camera gets the face shot quite clearly. Unfortunately he is wearing a mask and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. So all we can tell is that he is about six feet in height. Since he is also wearing gloves, we can't tell the race of the person and we can't test for fingerprints. And since he walks up to the door, we can't tell the kind of car this guy drives."

"I have taken the liberty of calling Morelli. We are meeting him in my office in fifteen minutes to go over the security footage", Ranger said.

Ranger and I met Morelli in the lobby, escorting him up to Ranger's office on the fifth floor. Morelli was furious and the tension felt by the men was palpable. We sat around Ranger's conference table while Ranger outlined the timeline of what happened and showed Morelli the card and the flowers.

"The card will have Stephanie's fingerprints on it, as she was the one that opened the envelope up. But no one else has touched the card, so you may be able to pull some prints off it." Ranger then showed Morelli the tape, pausing in the places that were the best camera angles for the man and printing the pictures off for Morelli to use. He then attached the video file to an email and addressed it to Morelli's work address.

Morelli turned to me. "How are you doing with this, Cupcake?"

"Better now that the shock has worn off. I thought the flowers were from you at first, and I couldn't understand why you were sending me funeral flowers." Morelli and Ranger both looked at the flowers. It hadn't occurred to them that the flowers were ones usually used in funeral arrangements. "I thought I was safe here. That's the problem. If I'm not safe here, where will I be safe? So I'm reeling a bit over that. I'm also struggling with shifting my thinking about this guy. Up to now, I have been more annoyed by him than scared. He has been a huge inconvenience for a whole lot of people, including all of us in this room. But I haven't been thinking of him as being particularly dangerous. And then WHAM! He sends a death threat, and he does it in a way that is so clever he can't be caught."

"You are safe in this building", Ranger stated. "It is just outside the building we can't protect you. But in these walls you are protected and you are safe. You have to remember the stalker wasn't able to get into the building."

"That's true", Morelli said. "I'm angry that he found you, too. But the facts are that Ranger can provide a level of protection I can't provide at my place, or your parents can provide at their place, or that you can even provide yourself at your own place. None of those other buildings are as secure. We made the right decision last night. This remains the safest place you can stay, Cupcake."

"I would like you to stay in the building today while we try to capture this guy", Ranger said. Morelli nodded his head in agreement.

"No way. I am behind on skip tracing as it is. Finding Paulo took so much time. I have about a half dozen outstanding cases to chase, some of which I haven't even seen yet. And I need money. I used up all my savings to buy that car and I need to replace the money. Brodie is a high bond."

"Babe," Ranger began, "you won't be chasing many skips if you are dead."

Morelli chimed in. "Through method of elimination we are fairly certain Brodie is the person stalking you. I don't want you near him." Morelli was adamant. "After I leave here I will be going over to his house to look for him myself."

"But you can't! I need that bond money. I was counting on it!" Panic set in. My eyes started to prickle and the back of my throat grew thick. I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes and took a few deep breaths. There was a silence for a couple of beats.

"You aren't going to cry, Cupcake, are you?" asked Morelli. "Because I hate it when you cry...Look, maybe if Ranger can take you to pick up Brodie. Then you will be protected at the same time as you pick up your skip. What do you think about that? Ranger, does that work for you?"

Ranger sat looking at me for a moment, his fingers steepled as he leaned back, thinking, in his chair. "We can do that", Ranger finally answered. "It's not my first choice. Stephanie would be much better protected if she stayed within the building. But if you are comfortable with it I will take her out for a while today. We can look for Brodie and pick up the new files and her cheque for Paulo from the office. She can do her phone and computer work on the new files from here this afternoon while I meet with some clients, and then Stephanie and I can go out together and look for people tomorrow. Does that work for you?" he asked Morelli.

And that's the thing with the two men in my life. They are politely competitive and fiercely territorial, but given a common goal they work well together. Right now that common goal was keeping me safe.

Morelli agreed to the plan. They both turned to me and looked at me, eyebrows raised. I nodded my head. This was probably as good a deal as I would get.

I walked Morelli out. He yanked me over to the side of the lobby and gave me kiss that rocked me to the tips of my toes. He pulled away, then gave me a hard hug and whispered "stay safe" in my ear. He gave me another quick kiss and signed out of the building.


	10. Chapter 10

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 17

**Chapter Ten **

Ranger and I started first by going to the office to pick up the additional files. They were two high bonds – good for me. I put them in my purse to join the other three, and picked up my cheque for Paulo.

Hearing my voice, Vinnie came roaring out of his office. "Do you know how many people you have swinging in the wind? I am bleeding out here. I'm going to go broke, and that means that you will lose your job. Do I need to hire Joyce Barnhardt to help you?" I frantically shook my head "no". Joyce has been my enemy since I was in kindergarten, when she "accidently" spilled paint all over my new dress on picture day, leaving me to have my pictures taken with a big red splotch down my front. Our hate relationship progressed to Joyce telling everybody that I ate my boogers when I was eleven, a situation which resulted in me being known as Booger Face at school for a month, through to when I found her shagging my husband of three months on my dining room table when I was in my early twenties. More recently she has aspired to be a bounty hunter. She is an even worse bounty hunter than I am, and generally just steals my skips and runs around in tight black leather yelling "freeze, bond enforcement". She hasn't actually caught anyone, but has interfered in several of my captures. She is a slut, however, and her time in the sack with Vinnie makes her Vinnie's first choice to put on skip tracing when the office gets a backlog.

"That's okay. I will help Stephanie for a few days", said Ranger. I looked at him gratefully.

Vinnie got a sharp gleam in his eyes. "I don't know what Stephanie had to do to get you to help her. I can only imagine how good she is in bed". There was a gasp from Lula, Connie and myself. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees as Ranger glared at him. Vinnie continued on, oblivious to the sudden silence. "Good going, Steph. We need the help. Thanks for taking one for the team." Vinnie turned around and started towards the door.

"Wait", commanded Ranger.

Vinnie slowly turned around, frantically trying to figure out what he said that would cause Ranger to be angry. "What? I thanked her", he whined.

"Stephanie is not, nor will ever, provide sexual favours to me in return for helping her chase skips. This time I am helping her because someone – we think it is one of her skips on a bond that you wrote – is threatening her life. I am going along with her to provide bodyguard services. If I ever hear of you pimping out Stephanie another time, I will steal Stephanie from you and provide her with a job, and I will never work for you myself again. Do I make myself clear?"

This was a serious threat, as Ranger chased all the very dangerous skips, as well as those that crossed state and international boundaries. If Ranger wasn't doing the skip chasing, Vinnie would have to do it himself. Vinnie swallowed audibly, nodded his head and turned to go back to his office.

"Wait", ordered Ranger again. He waited until he had Vinnie's attention. "I think you owe Stephanie an apology. Oh, and Vinnie? If I find out you have bonded out this stalker again once we bring him in, I will hunt you down and kill you."

Vinnie reluctantly turned back to me. "I'm sorry, Steph. You know I didn't mean anything by it, don't you? I just thought … well, it doesn't matter what I thought. I'm sorry. And I won't rebond him out." And he glanced at Ranger, turned around and ran back into his office, closing and locking the door behind him before Ranger could call him back again.

I looked at Ranger. He still looked angry. It was a shock – Ranger doesn't usually show emotion. You have to know him very well to be able to pick up the signs. I have seen him in many situations, but I don't think I have ever seen him so blatantly angry. There was a silence over the room, and Connie and Lula looked at Ranger. I don't think they had ever seen him like that either. Ranger turned to Connie and Lula and explained quietly that someone was threatening me and leaving messages on my phone, by graffiti, and more recently, by flowers. He then told them about me being shot at the night before. He said the stalker, as yet, did not have my cell phone number and asked Connie and Lula to make sure it wasn't given out.

"Oh, oh", Lula said. "Someone called earlier for you, Steph, and would not leave his name. He asked for your cell phone number and I gave it to him. I hope that wasn't your stalker dude. I'm sorry. I didn't think it was a big deal. You hand out your business cards all the time and they have your cell phone number on them."

Lula obviously felt bad about what happened. I told her it normally wouldn't have been a big deal. It is just she didn't know this other stuff was going on. I told her it was my fault for not keeping her and Connie in the loop.

"I will lend Stephanie another cell phone today", said Ranger, "and we'll call the office with the change in number." We started for the door.

"Wait", said Lula. She ran over to me and gave me a huge hug. "Go get that son of a bitch." Connie yelled out "stay safe" from behind her. Ranger and I turned around and headed out the door.

My cell phone rang. I picked up, to hear "Steph-an-nie. Did you like my flowers?"

"Who is this?" I asked. Ranger threw me back against the front of the bonds office, and sandwiched me between the front of the office and his own body. My hands started to shake.

"I can see you. I'm watching you right now. Smile and wave", the caller said before he hung up.

Ranger and I looked all over, but could not see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. "Next time put it on speaker phone, okay?" Ranger asked. "But right now why don't you turn off the phone. Let him stew for a while."

"Where to now?" Ranger asked once we got into his Cayenne. I told him that I would like to drive by my parents' house, to see the progress on the removal of the graffiti. On the way I went over all the information on the Brodie file. I gave him Brodie's particulars. I told him about the results of the last two attempts to capture him. His lips twitched and his eyes crinkled when I told him about Lula tripping me up as she tried to pick up the money. "No matter how bad things get, you can always manage to cheer me up", he said.

I told him I had spoken with Brodie's psychologist. I explained that the psychologist was optimistic about Brodie's recovery and his anger issues, and told him the psychologist said Brodie had found a new focus that was helping him in his anger management. "Yeah," replied Ranger, "that new focus is terrorizing you."

We drove to my parents' house. The front of the house was newly painted. Gone was the mustard yellow and brown siding, instead replaced by a pale yellow house with a dark red door. It looked somewhat respectable beside the lime green house next door. I didn't know what I thought about the change in colour. The house had been brown and mustard yellow for so long it was a bit of a shocker to see it in a butter yellow. Although I had to admit it looked nice, it was a change. And I rely on the sameness, the never-changing stability that my parents' house always represents to me.

My grandmother was looking out the front door. I asked Ranger to stop for coffee. "Isn't this nice?" my grandmother asked. "We just got back from Giovichinni's. We bought an Entemann's raspberry almond coffee cake and there is a fresh pot of coffee on. You came at a good time." I gave Grandma a hug and we walked back to the kitchen to see my mom. I poured a cup of coffee for Ranger and myself and put some cream in mine, and got plates and forks for everyone. We all sat down at the kitchen table. My mom dished up cake for everyone other than Ranger. Ranger never eats cake. I, on the other hand, had two pieces.

"So I noticed that the house was painted?" I asked my mom. "It's a change from what was there beforehand."

"Yes. I've always wanted a pale yellow house. And I've always wanted a red door. But I never could get it because there was nothing wrong with the colour of the siding before. And red wouldn't have gone with a yellow and brown house."

"The last time we painted", she continued, "your dad wanted a brown house and I wanted a yellow house, so we compromised. When they couldn't get the graffiti off, though, they told me that it would have to be repainted. And I just thought – why not? Your dad wasn't here to argue, so I picked out the colour and had them start the painting before your dad got home from his cab runs. And now that it's finished, he likes it!"

I asked my grandmother whether she had seen anything suspicious over the last couple of days. She said that she had seen a man looking at the house, but she wasn't sure whether he was suspicious or just looking at the graffiti. "That was a pretty shocking painting, you know. I wouldn't blame anyone for wanting to look at it", she said. "I spent a good half hour myself memorizing it so that I could tell everyone at the beauty salon all about it."

"Was he hanging around? Did you call Joe?"

"I thought about it. But by the time I decided I should call Joe and went to get the phone, he was gone. Do you think I should have gone to call Joe sooner?" Grandma asked.

I didn't want to upset Grandma by saying yes. "I don't know. It could have been nothing. Did you see the car he drove?"

"No. It was the strangest thing. He just disappeared – poof – when I was out of the room."

"Okay. Let Joe know if you see him, or anyone else, again. Joe needs to know", I emphasized.

I told my mother I would be borrowing a cell phone from Ranger for a few days. "What trouble are you in?" she asked. "First you need to stay at our place, then our house is desecrated, then you come here and tell me that you have a new phone number. I'm not stupid. Is someone after you?" She took a deep breath and turned white. "Is someone stalking you?" she asked, looking longingly at the cupboard where her whiskey is kept.

"No! Why would you think that? I just misplaced mine. Jeez." Her eyes turned back to me and you could see she really wanted to believe me. I told her I would be calling with the new number when I had it.

"You will have that number by the end of the day", Ranger said. We got up to leave, both of us thanking my mother and grandmother for the hospitality. As we left the house, we looked out at the street. It was quiet. There were no strange men looking at the house. There was no one admiring their work. Ranger walked to the car with his hand ready on his gun anyway.

We drove by Brodie's house, but there weren't any cars in the driveway. We went up to the door, Ranger standing behind and to the side of me on the porch. We rang the doorbell, but there were no noises inside the house. No sounds of the TV droning, no sounds of water running, no sounds of dogs barking. We walked around the house, looking in the windows. There was a bowl and a spoon draining in the dish rack, and there was a dirty coffee cup sitting on the counter. The dishes looked like they were still wet. We had not missed Brodie by very much.

We drove to the coffee shop. Going inside, I showed the cashier Brodie's picture and asked if she had seen Brodie recently. She said that he had just been in, that he had left about ten minutes before. And that he was different – he seemed happy, not at all upset like he normally was. She admitted they have a rule in the shop that he gets served first when he comes in. She also said they all breathe a sigh of relief when he gets his coffee and leaves. I asked whether he usually comes in for more than one coffee in a day and she confirmed that he did not. I asked if he had a standard time that he comes in and she said that he usually comes in at some point in the morning, but that he didn't come in every day, nor did he always come in during the morning. Sometimes he came in during the afternoon.

The line behind me was starting to get restless. I thanked the cashier and put a couple of dollars in the tips jar on the counter. We turned around and left the shop, walking to the car.

"What next?" Ranger asked.

"I could try the psychologist again, but I don't think we will get any information from him. The last time I spoke with him he cited patient confidentiality."

"You spoke to him over the phone last time, right? Let's try him in person this time", Ranger said. I explained to him I did not have an address for the doctor, but only had a name and phone number. "No problem", Ranger replied. He called Rangeman and asked for an address, reciting Dr. Fineman's phone number. A couple of minutes later Ranger's phone rang with an address down on Hamilton, located near the hospital.

Ranger drove me to the psychologist's, parking on the street a couple of cars down from the office. Located in a century home, it was a red-brick building with black shutters, a black door, and a white porch. There was a silk-flower wreath on the door and a sign that said "please make sure the door shuts fully when entering". I assumed that there was a similar sign on the other side of the door for people who are leaving.

We entered the waiting room. There was a reception desk and about ten comfortable-looking chairs. On the reception desk was a sign inviting us to take a seat, saying that Dr. Fineman was currently with a patient, and would be out shortly. We looked around the room. There was a couple already there, waiting for the next appointment. They were obviously there for marital counselling, as they were seated with two chairs between them. They were shooting daggers at each other with their eyes. They ignored us.

Ranger and I sat down beside each other on the other side of the room, facing the door to the treatment room. I picked up a magazine and started flipping through it. Ranger sat at what I like to call "restful attention", the sitting version of parade rest. At first glance he would appear to be totally relaxed. He was lounging on the chair, his eyes at half-mast, legs stretched out. But when you looked at his eyes you could tell he was totally aware of what was going on and his hand was resting on his gun. I could hear some murmuring coming from the treatment room door, but I could not make out whether the person talking was a man or a woman.

After ten minutes, the murmuring got louder and I could make out a man and a woman talking. The woman's voice was more strident, couched in tears. The man's voice was more sympathetic in nature. He came to the door saying he would like to see her again in a week. He pulled out his appointment book to arrange a time with her. She took the appointment card and grabbed a couple of tissues, then left the office, carefully avoiding the eyes of everyone in the waiting room.

Dr. Fineman looked at the people in the waiting room. "Mr. and Mrs. Brockman, why don't you go into my office. I will be there in a couple of minutes." He shut the door behind them before turning to us. "Hi, I'm Dr. Fineman. May I help you?"

"We are looking for a man named Pete Brodie. I believe Stephanie spoke to you on the phone the other day", Ranger said. "He was arrested for assault and Stephanie started tracking him a week ago. We have been unable to capture him at this point. Do you know where I could find him?"

"No, I am sorry. As I explained to Stephanie on the phone, I do not know where Pete is. Even if I did, I would not be able to provide you with that information due to patient confidentiality."

"Did he come in for his Thursday appointment?"

"Yes, he did."

"When is your next appointment with him?" Ranger asked.

Dr. Fineman thought for a moment, then decided that it wouldn't infringe on his patient's rights to answer the question. He went to his appointment book and flipped through the pages. "His next appointment is Monday morning."

"As fugitive apprehension officers, we are tracking Brodie because he skipped out on his bond. But you will also be visited by the police, probably today, because Stephanie has a stalker and has received several death threats over the past week – all since she started tracking Brodie. Because of the nature of the threats the police are reasonably certain Brodie is the person threatening Stephanie."

"Oh, my. He seemed to be getting better. He doesn't seem nearly as angry. I thought that he was making real strides in therapy. I was even thinking of approving his return to work soon." Dr. Fineman was half talking to himself.

"When did you notice a change in him?" Ranger asked.

"For the last two sessions he has been mellower. He seemed to have something else in his life that was giving him a focus, which was channelling his anger away from constantly erupting. He hasn't even tried to throw anything at me in over a week. I thought it was the breathing exercises that I had given him that were working."

"Can you tell us anything else?"

"Just that he doesn't want to go to jail. He seems to be quite worried about going, and would do anything to avoid it. But you probably already know that."

"Thank you for your time. I will be passing this information on to the police. You can expect a visit from them in the near future, probably today."

We left the office, carefully shutting the door as Dr. Fineman hurried into his inner office to his next appointment. Ranger called Morelli as we walked to the car, eyes alert and scanning the area around us the whole time.

"I have someone for you to visit. A Dr. Fineman, on Hamilton. He is Brodie's psychologist. You may be able to get more information from Dr. Fineman than we did. He was helpful to us though – he did give us some information despite pulling the confidentiality card. From the information that we got from him, he said Brodie is becoming more focused, more in control of his anger. That over the last week he has made great inroads in his anger management issues. Brodie's next appointment is Monday morning. Will you have a chance to speak to Fineman today?" Ranger listened for a moment and beeped open the car, ushering me into the passenger seat. "Okay, we'll catch up with each other this afternoon, when you have had a chance to talk with the doctor." Ranger hung up and shut my door. He got in the car and started it up. "Sorry, Babe, but it's time to go back to Rangeman. I have a meeting with a client in half an hour, and I still need to grab a bite to eat. I want you to stay in the building if I'm not with you, okay? You can use the phone in the office in my apartment, and feel free to use the computer there for your searches. When I get back to Rangeman I will arrange to have a couple of guys stake out Brodie's home. We'll see if we can catch him when he returns home."

When we got back to Rangeman we went to the staff room for some lunch. I had a bowl of potato and leek soup, some breadsticks and a container of fruit salad. I looked for some cookies or a brownie for dessert, but Ranger doesn't stock them. To Ranger, dessert is devil's food. Ranger selected a tuna and sprouts sandwich and an apple, and motioned for me to follow him into his office. He closed his door after us. On his desk was a cell phone with a phone number on a sticky note. We quickly ate our lunch, me burning my tongue on the soup in my haste to finish before his appointment. Ranger keyed in the new cell phone number on his own phone and handed the new phone to me. He gave me a deep kiss that was making me forget that I had someone stalking me. As his hand crept up my side towards my breast, his phone rang. Ranger looked at his watch and sighed. "My appointment is here", he said, and he picked up the phone. He listened for a moment, then said that he would be down in a minute to meet his client at Reception. He turned to me, gave me a quick kiss, and reminded me to stay in the office. "You are welcome to walk around the building. Just stay inside. And remember to carry your new cell phone with you at all times."


	11. Chapter 11

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Eleven **

I phoned my mom and gave her the change in phone numbers. I phoned the office and gave them the change in phone numbers. And I phoned Morelli and gave him the change in numbers. Talking to him, I explained "I hadn't told Connie and Lula what was going on. So when a guy called and asked for my cell number this morning, Lula didn't think anything of it and gave it to him. I got a call from him minutes after leaving the office. He said that he was watching me. Neither Ranger nor I could see anyone out of the ordinary though, so I don't know if he was just saying that. I turned off my phone, and Ranger is lending me one of Rangeman's until this is sorted out."

"What was Ranger doing while you were being harassed on the phone?"

"He was sandwiching me between himself and the front of the bonds office, protecting me with his body. If Brodie had tried to shoot me again, he would have had to shoot through Ranger first. It was kind of scary, actually, that someone would put themselves in danger so they could protect me."

"That's the nature of Ranger's job. And of my job. The fact we know you just makes that job personal."

"Well, your job stinks."

"Sometimes it does. But when you catch someone, when you stop some of the insanity, it makes the job worthwhile."

"So how is the painting going at your parents' place?"

"A couple more days and they should be going home. Bob will be glad. I am sleeping on his couch and he has to sleep on the floor. He is not happy. Last night he tried to climb on top of me and he growled when I pushed him off."

I sat behind Ranger's desk and turned on the computer. I pulled out my files. There were two left over from last week. One was Lucy Robinson, a medium bond woman arrested for identity theft. She put her car up as collateral to secure the bond. I plugged her name into Ranger's programs. As the reams of information came up, I saw that she was the single mother of three kids. Living in the projects, she did not have a job. I decided I would take her in the morning next week so she would have time to get rebonded before the kids were due home from school.

I looked at the second file. A DUI arrest, Davina Sanders was a low bond. It was her first offence. She lived in Hamilton Township. She was married with no kids. That was good. I didn't need to be concerned about capturing her in front of kids or parents – I hate doing that. It just seems wrong to me, and causes a lot of unnecessary upset. She offered her TV as collateral.

Connie had given me two new files today, both of which were high bonds. The first of the high bonds, Willy Couch, was arrested for attempted murder. He would have been charged with domestic disturbance, but when Willy decided to throw his wife through the window and then go outside and kick her until she was unconscious and half dead, he increased the severity of the charges. He was still married, but his kids were all older and no longer lived at home. He lived in a neighbourhood just off State Street. He put his house up for collateral to secure the bond.

The second of the high bonds was for a man named Thomas Elanski. He was a 25-year old man who was charged with rape and attempted murder of a 13-year old girl. While raping her, he tried to strangle her. A passer-by heard the struggles and came to investigate. She interrupted the raping and thankfully saved the girl, and she was able to identify Elanski. His wife put their house in Hamilton Township up for collateral on the bond.

I printed off the search results for each of the cases and filed the information in each of the folders. I classified the files according to the value of the bond. I wanted to attack the high value bonds first, to take advantage of Ranger's expertise, and I wanted to have his protection when picking up some of the skips. I didn't want to meet that rapist by myself, and I'm not sure how much protection Lula would provide against the attempted murderer. I could technically bring them in myself, but I figured I might as well get Ranger's help on the big ones while I had it.

I finished putting the files in my purse and turned off the computer as Ella came in with dinner. When Ranger is home, Ella provides a gourmet meal every night. She put a casserole in the oven to keep warm, and a loaf of bread in the warming drawer. She put a new stick of butter on the counter to come to room temperature and put a salad in the refrigerator. Turning to me, she apologized for bringing the flowers up to me. "I thought they might have been from someone good – perhaps a client. It did not occur to me that they were from a stalker. I'm so sorry. I should have thought."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault. There is just a very sick person out there right now, and he is getting his kicks out of stalking me. I will be glad when he is caught. But until he is, I guess I am staying here."

"Ranger will catch him quickly. He's good at that. But it is always nice when you stay here. I wish you came more often rather than only when you are in danger. Ranger never has anyone over to stay other than you. He is too alone. He worries me." Ella sounded more like a mother than she did an employee.

I went over and gave Ella a hug. "He is lucky to have you", I said. Ella gave me a little sort of embarrassed hug in return, then stepped away. Just as we were separating, Ranger came in the door. Spying us, he said "everything okay?"

"Yes. I was just thanking Ella for dinner. Doesn't it smell wonderful?"

Ranger looked at me quizzically. I gave him a small shake of my head, and he picked up on the hint. He asked Ella what was for dinner, thanked her for making it, and escorted her to the door. He locked the door after her, turned back to me, and said "what was that all about?"

"Ella was feeling guilty for bringing the flowers up to me. So I tried to make her feel better. She's a worrier. She worries about you, she worries about me. She is really a nice person."

"Yes, she is. I have known her for years, since I was a boy growing up in Newark. I'm glad Ella and Luis work for me now. They are good people." He got out the hot chicken and broccoli divan and bread from the ovens, while I brought the salad and dressings to the table. I set the table and Ranger poured wine. We dished up plates in the kitchen, and carried our full plates over to our seats.

"How was your client this afternoon?"

"Good. We have a new account. And it's a big one, which is nice. I am at the point where I need to hire more staff. How about you? Were you able to complete your searches?"

"Yes, I think so. If you have time tomorrow, maybe we could go look at some of them. I have two high-bond cases I would really like help with, in addition to Brodie. If I could catch the high value bonds it would address some of Vinnie's money flow problems, in addition to getting some money into my own account. Then I just have the medium-value bond and the low-value bond left. I feel comfortable doing those with Lula if I don't get to them with you. The high-value bonds scare me a bit, though."

"I have the whole day to help you tomorrow."

"Thanks." We cleaned up the kitchen and put the leftovers in the fridge. I put a leftover piece of green pepper from the salad in Rex's cage and changed his water. Then we went to the sofa and turned on the TV. There was no prevaricating about where I would sit tonight. Ranger sat down and I immediately sat down next to him, leaning my back into his side, my head on his shoulder. I could feel his smile as his arm came about me in a hug.

"Does this mean there won't be a pillow between us tonight?" he asked.

"The pillow didn't work. I will just have to trust you."

"Hey, it was your hand down my pants, not the other way around, Babe."

"But I have a boyfriend."

"That doesn't matter to me. I would never force you but if you give me the opportunity, I will take it." He gave me a kiss to the top of my head, then started flipping through the channels until he found a rerun of Spiderman playing.


	12. Chapter 12

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 9

**Chapter Twelve **

The next day I woke up with both my hands down Ranger's pants, my mouth pressed up against his chest, and my legs intertwined with his. I could feel by the placement of my hands that he was interested in doing more than simply waking up.

"Uh, Babe?"

"I'm sorry." I yanked my hands out of Ranger's boxers and tried to put some distance between us.

Ranger's arms snaked out and held me in a loose hug. "I didn't mind. I just wanted to make sure you were awake before I started to follow up."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Really? Because I could make you change your mind."

"I know you could. And I want to, but I can't."

"You better be careful what you say to me, because I will take advantage of it", he said, and gave me a kiss that had me reconsidering my choices. His hand slid up from my hip to my breast, reminding me just how fantastic Ranger was in bed. He knows just when to be hard, when to be soft, when to go fast, when to go slow, when to be playful and when to be serious. Morelli was a fun, satisfying lover; Ranger was magic. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my arm, and was working his way down when his phone rang. He paused for a moment, then reached over to answer it, never once taking his eyes off me. He listened to the caller, thanked them, and then hung up. "That was Hal and Roberto. They saw Brodie at his house but they don't have the Apprehension papers with them, so they can't pick him up. I'm calling Morelli now so he can go pick Brodie up." He dialled Morelli's number and passed on the message. After talking to him for a minute, he hung up and got out of bed. "Morelli will come over and have breakfast in my office when he is finished dealing with Brodie. As much as I would like to continue what we started, we need to get the day going."

Fine by me. It is easier living with unresolved desire than it is with guilt. I hope.

After showering I joined Ranger in his office. While we waited for Morelli to show up, Ranger got a call from Hal and Roberto. He put it on speaker call so that I could hear.

"We took over surveillance of Brodie's house at midnight. He wasn't home then, and didn't get home until a couple of minutes before I called you earlier this morning. Brodie must have only been picking up something, though, because he was only in the house for ten minutes, tops. He then came out with a large duffel bag, put it in the car and drove north. We followed him for two blocks, losing him at the set of lights at Elm and Empire. We then returned to the house to meet up with Morelli. We have just finished talking to him. Do you want us to continue to keep the house under surveillance?"

Ranger confirmed he would. As he disconnected the phone, my borrowed phone rang. Morelli was on the line. "We lost him. Damn. I am almost at Rangeman now, Cupcake. Ranger promised me a coffee and I could really use one. Do you want to meet me in the lobby?" I said I would.

I went down to the lobby, getting there just as Morelli finished signing in at the front desk. He gave me a hug and kiss that made me glad that the phone had interrupted Ranger and me this morning, and I escorted him up to the fifth floor where we met Ranger. We went down the hall to the break room, selecting our breakfast from the assortment that Ella keeps out for staff. Ranger selected a bagel with cream cheese and a container of fruit salad, Morelli dished himself up a bowl of hot oatmeal and grabbed a container of strawberry yogurt to go with it, and I chose a breakfast burrito. Taking our food and coffees back to Ranger's office, we shut the door and sat down. Morelli gave his version of what happened.

"I got there as fast as I could, but I got there too late. He was only home for about ten minutes, and I got there about two or three minutes after he left. I just missed him. I don't know where he is staying. I looked at his arrest papers yesterday, but I didn't find anyone listed who might be harbouring him. On our database he doesn't appear to have any family in the area. He has taken out some large withdrawals at bank machines near his house, but I am not picking up any credit card activity. I don't know if he is staying at a motel or something. I'm not sure what your search engines can find." He scraped out the last of the oatmeal from his bowl and licked his spoon.

"Bupkis", I said. "I ran him through the searches yesterday hoping to come up with something new. I found absolutely nothing more. The best bet that we have to capture him is to stake out the psychologist's office on Monday." I took a sip of coffee. "Did you talk to Dr. Fineman? Did he give you a time for Brodie's appointment?" I asked Morelli.

"I talked to him yesterday. He was trying very hard to help us. He was walking a very fine line between being helpful and protecting confidentiality and in truth he probably gave out more information than he should have. He didn't give a more precise appointment time other than late Monday morning though. And he said the same things he told you – that Brodie has a new focus, and this outlet is providing a release in tension. His anger management issues are improving and the psychologist thought that, if Brodie keeps up the momentum on his recovery, he should be able to go back to work soon. I didn't get the feeling the psychologist knew what exactly was providing so much assistance to Brodie." He finished the rest of his yogurt and took a sip of his coffee. "My parents and grandmother are going back to their house tomorrow, so I can take over protection detail. You can come and stay with me tomorrow evening, Cupcake. I still don't want you back in your own place until Brodie is caught."

"Whatever works best", Ranger said. "It is no problem having her stay here. It gives Ella someone else to fuss over. I will keep a car on Brodie's house as long as I can. I am short-staffed right now, so today might be the last day I can do it. We need to give copies of the Right to Apprehend papers to my surveillance staff, so they can capture Brodie immediately if they see him. Stephanie and I will take care of that today."

"I should have thought of that", I said.

"Can't change the past, Babe", Ranger said. "Let's just get the papers to them for the next time. If we can't catch him before Monday, Stephanie, Tank and I will go to Dr. Fineman's to apprehend him then. In the meantime, Stephanie has a number of skips to trace. She did the computer work on them yesterday, and we were going to go together today to pull in some of the high-value bonds. Vinnie is starting to panic about the amount of money he has outstanding. Including Brodie there are three high-value bonds, and those are just the outstanding ones as of today." Morelli whistled. Three high-value bonds outstanding means that Vinnie had overextended himself. "I have already told him that he is not allowed to rebond Brodie."

"Were you able to pull any fingerprints off the florist's card?" I asked.

"No, nor have we found the florist the flowers were bought at", Morelli answered.

I got my own phone out of my bag. "Does anyone want to hear my messages?"

"Hit me", said Morelli. I turned the phone on, put the phone on speaker and accessed my messages. I had five. There were two mouth breathers and three messages from the stalker. The first was "Steph-an-nie, did you like your flowers?" The second was "Steph-an-nie. You are trying to hide from me but I have already found you. It is my mission. You are going to die. It is just a matter of time." The third message was "Steph-an-nie. You are hiding in that building. You have to come out sometime. And when you do, you will die. I'm watching." I looked at Morelli. He had his show-no-emotion cop face on, but his inner turmoil was shown by his white face and stress lines bracketing his mouth. He reached into his pocket for his Rolaids. Ranger also had a poker face, hiding his thoughts. But there was a tightness around his eyes and shoulders that hinted at what was going on inside. On my side, I was having trouble keeping my breakfast down. I was scared out of my wits that he kept threatening me. Shaking, I turned my phone off again. There was a silence around the room.

Ranger took a deep breath and looked at me. "So, I guess the good news is that he appears to be staying close to the Rangeman building. It will make it easier to catch him. I have a problem though. I am so short-staffed I don't have the manpower to canvas the area."

"You should remain in the building today, Cupcake. It seems you are safe here", said Morelli.

"No way. I have some skips I have to capture. I can't wait in the building until Monday. My bank account needs that money now."

Morelli looked at Ranger questioningly. "If she leaves the building, will you be with her?"

"Yes, I will be with her at all times. We aren't going near Brodie's at all, and are just going after the other two high bonds."

"Do you think it is safe?" Morelli asked Ranger.

"No, I don't. If I had my choice, Stephanie would stay within the building and she wouldn't come out again until Brodie was safely behind bars. But I also understand that skip chasing is what Stephanie does, and she has to do her job. I don't have to like it, but I understand it. And I also understand it isn't in Stephanie's nature to be locked up, even if it is for her own protection. So unless things get worse, I am willing to take her out and act as her bodyguard. With a lot of luck, everything will be fine."

"I'm not sure if I find that reassuring or not. But you are right. Stephanie will do what Stephanie will do. Please keep me in the loop. I want to know immediately if anything changes."

Ranger and I agreed. Morelli got up from the table. As we cleaned up our garbage and took our dirty cutlery and crockery back to the break room, we made arrangements to meet at Pino's for dinner.

I walked Morelli down to Reception to sign him out. He pulled me to the side of the lobby and gave me a kiss that involved a lot of tongue, one hand warm at the base of my spine, the other sliding up under the hem of my shirt. I grabbed his hand and moved it back to my waist. "We're in the lobby and on camera, remember?"

"I'm sorry. I've missed you. Bob misses you. I can't wait until you are back at my place."

He gave me another quick kiss, and left me feeling confused. A big part of me missed Morelli, too. But when I am with Morelli, there is a big part of me that misses Ranger. The truth is, I love both men. They are each good men. And I can't imagine my life without either of them. I don't know what that says about me. I don't think it's anything good. I'm certainly not proud of myself for it. But that's the way it is. Someday I hope to figure out my love life. Judging by how confused I feel, that day won't be today.


	13. Chapter 13

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 20

**Chapter Thirteen**

We decided to drive down to Hamilton Township first, to go after Elanski. A couple of minutes after leaving the Rangeman offices, Ranger announced we had a tail. After a series of quick turns and running through yellow lights, he announced we had lost it.

Elanski was a high-school teacher that, since his arrest, was on a leave of absence. I phoned him on the way, pretending to be an air duct cleaning company. When Elanski answered the phone, I went through my spiel about the importance of air duct cleaning. Elanski hung up on me, but not before I was able to confirm that he was in the house.

We parked five houses down the street. Ranger went to the back of the Cayenne and got out a bullet-proof vest for me as well as one for him. "Put it on, Babe. This could go south fast. He sounds like he could be a desperate man." After I put it on, he then gave me an ear-bud. "This ear-bud is set for sending and receiving. You will be able to hear me, and I you. It is a closed circuit between the two of us. It does not go to the control room. I will go towards the back of the house to cover the entrance there, but if anything goes wrong at the front of the house with you, let me know and I will come running." Ranger and I got back in the car and drove the five houses down the street to the Elanski house.

Ranger and I went up to the house. I went to the front door, and Ranger went to the back door. When Ranger whispered that he was in position, I rang the doorbell. There was a silence, then the sound of feet padding towards the door. The curtain in the window flanking the door twitched to the side. I rang the doorbell again. After a moment the door opened up. I put my foot in between the door and the frame so that Elanski would not be able to shut the door in my face.

Elanski was a good looking man. At roughly 5'10" tall, he had straight blond hair cut in a military style. He obviously spent quite a bit of time in the gym – he was all muscle. He was dressed in a gray button-down shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves and casual black twill pants. He looked so normal it was difficult to see him as a rapist and murderer. But then, what does a rapist and a murderer look like?

"May I help you?" he asked.

"My name is Stephanie Plum, and I represent your bail bonds office. You missed your court date and I have come to take you in so that you can get rescheduled."

"The charges are bogus. I am not coming in. I didn't do anything wrong. The girl told me she was eighteen. I didn't know I was having sex with a minor. I am a teacher, for Christ's sake. I wouldn't have sex with a minor purposely. I won't dignify the charge by coming in to court."

"If you think the charges are bogus," I told him, "then you need to go to court to tell the judge that. This arrest won't go away all by itself. You need to talk to a judge to do that, and you need to go to court to talk to a judge. It is time now to go into the station to get another court date assigned to you." I caught a glimpse of something moving behind Elanski out of the corner of my eye, and realized that Ranger had entered the house through the back door while I was talking to him.

"I'm not going in, you stupid bitch. How many times do I have to tell you?" and he came at me, arms outstretched, closing his meaty hands around my throat. He started to squeeze and I started to choke. I swung my hands and forearms up through the space in between his hands, and snapped my arms outward away from each other. This loosened his hold enough that I could breathe, but not enough to get away. I then stomped my foot down on his instep, but this too had little impact.

Gun trained on Elanski, Ranger shouted "bond enforcement", and reached around Elanski to snap a cuff on Elanski's wrist. That was when Elanski really started to fight. He kicked back at Ranger, and tightened his hold on my throat, propelling me away from the door and out onto the front porch. Ranger followed, holstering his gun. I tripped over the front step and fell on the ground, taking Elanski down with me, "accidently" on purpose kneeing him in the groin. Ranger reached down over us, grabbed him by the back of his shirt, and held a white-faced Elanski a few inches off the ground. Ranger gave him a shake.

"You are going to stop fighting and you are going to come with us now. Do you understand? Nod your head if you do." Elanski nodded his head. "Now, I am putting you down and cuffing you, and you are not going to try to get away. Do you understand?" Elanski nodded his head. "That's good. Because I am in a bad mood and I would love a chance to shoot you. And if you try to get away, I will shoot you. Do you understand?" Elanski nodded his head again. "Good. How are you doing there, Babe? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just bruised, I think". I got up off the ground, twisting my head side to side in an effort to ease the soreness in my throat.

Ranger put Elanski back on the ground, holding onto him while I reached around him and cuffed Elanski behind his back. Ranger walked Elanski to the back of his car and got out the shackles. He then shackled Elanski to the floor bolts in the back of the car and shut the door. I walked through Elanski's house, locking doors and making sure that the stove was off. I then took his keys and locked the front of the house.

Ranger and I walked Elanski into the police station together. The docket officer looked at me and gasped. "What happened?" he asked.

"Stephanie had a bit of trouble with the skip. He decided that it would be a good idea to choke her to death so he wouldn't have to go to court", Ranger said. "Do you want to press charges, Babe? I think it would be a good idea."

I was in a dilemma. I really didn't want to press charges. Although I hadn't seen the state of my throat, judging by its soreness and the officer's reaction I knew that Morelli would not be happy when he saw it. And I didn't want to hang around long enough for him to see it. Why worry him needlessly? He was already worried enough. But on the other hand, I didn't want anyone else to get strangled either and further charges against Elanski would only strengthen the existing case against him.

Morelli walked into the room and blanched when he saw my throat. "How did you know I was here?" I asked.

"Eddie saw you coming into the station and called me to come down. What happened?"

I explained that Ranger and I were doing a takedown, and Ranger was taking the back of the house and I was taking the front. I explained further that Elanski didn't want to come in to be rescheduled, so he decided to strangle me to get rid of me. And I explained that Ranger came through the house when he heard I was in trouble and pulled him off me, but not before Elanski had given me bruises.

"You are pressing charges, aren't you? This guy is a high school teacher. It is bad enough that he tried to choke you, but at least you are okay. I would hate for him to lose control at school and choke one of his students. I can put through the paperwork now so that you don't have to come back to the station." Phrased like that, I agreed to press charges. I picked up my body receipt and followed Ranger and Morelli through the bullpen back to the interrogation rooms. In the interrogation room there was a one-way window in which I was able to see my reflection. I gasped. I had black bruises coming up around my throat. I could see why the docket officer, Morelli and Ranger all wanted me to report the assault. I hadn't realized the damage was that extensive.

Morelli came in with a camera and took pictures of the bruises. Then he took separate statements from Ranger and myself. Forty-five minutes later we left with Morelli to go to the coffee shop across the street from the police station. The coffee shop was known for fast food, fresh doughnuts, and excellent coffee. It was always filled with cops, no matter the time of the day. It was set up cafeteria style, with a long display case, a deli behind the counter and a cashier at the end of the line. There were a few tables available for patrons to the left of the till. All the tables were currently in use. We decided that Ranger and I would wait for a table, and Morelli would get the food. I asked for an egg salad sandwich on a ciabatta bun, an orange juice, and a doughnut. I needed happy food. Ranger asked for a ham sandwich and a tomato juice. After waiting a few minutes we were lucky and a table opened up in the back corner. I sat to wait for the guys while Ranger went back to help Morelli with the food.

A few moments later, the guys arrived at the table and divided out the food. We started to eat. My throat hurt to swallow. I didn't eat all of my sandwich, I barely finished my orange juice, but I ate my entire doughnut. A girl has to have priorities. Morelli finished my sandwich and orange juice for me.

After lunch we headed back to the station, leaving Morelli to do his cop thing and Ranger and I to go off to capture Couch. Driving to State Street, we counted off houses until we got to the Couch residence. Parking a couple of houses down the street, we suited up in bullet-proof vests and earbuds again. Ranger also handed me a stun gun. "This guy has a history of domestic abuse. This means that he probably has a warped opinion of women. Take the stun gun. If he comes at you, stun him. I will be at the back door again, so I will be close by. If you need me, yell."

We walked up to the house, Ranger to the back door and me to the front. I waited until Ranger was in position before ringing the doorbell. Like Ranger taught me when he first started mentoring me, I stood to the side of the door. This was a good lesson, I thought as I heard the sound of Willy picking up his gun, followed milliseconds later by shots blasting through the door. "I'm okay" I said to the earpiece. There was silence from Ranger. I took that to mean he was okay, too. "Bond enforcement", I yelled. "Put your gun down." Another volley of shots were aimed at the door. "I'm okay", I repeated when Couch stopped shooting.

"I'm not going to no fucking jail", he yelled. "She had it coming to her. She's a fucking tramp. I saw her looking at that man in the grocery store. She talked to him. And then she told me she was just talking to him about the tomatoes, and how fresh the tomatoes tasted. Like I am supposed to believe that? No way, Willy, I said to myself. I'm smarter than that. She's just a fucking tramp. She was asking for me to hit her. You should be able to treat your wife the way God said you could. You should be able to punish your wife when she is bad. I didn't do nothing wrong."

I had a good Catholic upbringing and as a child attended church on a weekly basis. However, I could not remember it saying anywhere in the Bible that it was okay to beat your wife, let alone try to kill her. But I wasn't going to debate theology with him.

"You need to tell all that to the judge if you want to have the charges dropped. And to do that you need to go to court. Until the judge drops the charges, you are considered a felon. Now you need to come with us, to get your court date rescheduled, so you can get the judge to drop the charges." I reached around the door frame and pushed the door open. Another volley of shots erupted. "I'm okay", I whispered.

"I told you I'm not going to jail. Don't you listen to me? You are just as bad as my wife. I bet you talk to men, too. My wife didn't listen to me when I told her to stop talking to other men. She deserved what she got. I bet you deserve to be punished, too."

"She told you to put your gun down", Ranger said. I peeked around the corner of the doorframe, and saw Ranger standing behind Couch with a gun pressed to the back of Couch's head. Couch slowly put his gun on the floor and Ranger kicked it to the side. Ranger threw a set of cuffs to me and I cuffed Couch. As Ranger put away his gun Couch started to struggle against the cuffs, losing his balance and knocking me down onto the floor with him. Couch's head slammed upward on my bottom jaw, snapping my head back and resulting in me letting out an involuntary grunt of pain. Ranger reached down and punched Couch in the nose. Blood spurted out all over both Couch and me. "That's for shooting at Stephanie." Ranger picked Couch up by the shirtfront and threw him against the wall. "That's for hurting your wife." Couch collapsed at Ranger's feet. Ranger picked him up by the back of his shirt and marched him out to the car, shackling him to the floor bolts. I ran through the house, doing a fast check of windows, doors and oven, and locked up the house before joining Ranger. We took off our vests and put away the earpieces and stun gun, then got in the car.

Couch started to shout. "This isn't fair. My fucking wife asked for it. It wasn't my fault." He continued to rant and rave as we drove towards the station.

"You are a mess, Babe. You are covered in blood, and those bruises are getting darker. There are wet wipes in the glove compartment. You may want to clean up a bit before we get to the station, otherwise Morelli will have a coronary." I got the wipes out of the dash and started to wash up.

I turned to Ranger. "Did you ever wish you had one of those privacy windows in your cars, like the ones they have in limousines? Then we could put up the screen and we wouldn't have to hear this guy", I joked over the rantings in the backseat. Ranger gave one of his mouth-twitching smiles. He pulled up to a set of lights and stopped just as they turned red. As the car came to a complete stop, I heard the sound of a crack and felt the impact of a bullet on the back of the car. I froze. As Ranger reached over and grabbed my head and pushed it down between my knees, there was another bang and the window cracked into a gazillion pieces in front of me. Ranger ran the car up and over the curb, turned right and raced down Hamilton, away from the police station. He made a fast right, then right again until we were turned around, back towards the precinct. He started working through side streets, driving at top speeds, barely slowing down at stop signs. Couch was crying in the back. "Let me out of here", he said. "I don't deserve to die, you stupid bitch. This is all your fault. I'm going to die." He continued to rant and rave.

"Are you hit?" Ranger yelled over Couch.

"No. Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Can you call Morelli and tell him that we are dropping off Couch in two minutes? I want to talk to him when we get there. And keep your head down", he said, pushing my head down again as I started to sit up.

Ranger handed me his phone and I phoned Morelli. "We have a bit of a situation here", I said. "Ranger and I are okay, but we were just shot at."

"What happened?" he said in his serious, at-attention cop voice.

"Ranger and I picked up Couch this afternoon. On the way back we stopped at a red light and were shot at. We will be dropping off Couch in a couple of minutes. Ranger would like to talk to you when we do."

"I'll be waiting."

A couple of minutes later Ranger pulled up to the drop-off doors. Morelli ran out of the building, pulled me out of the car, and hustled me back into the precinct. He looked at me and at the blood on my shirt. "Where were you hit? I thought you said that you weren't hit", he said, frantically checking me all over for bullet holes.

"No, don't worry. The blood is from Ranger punching Couch in the nose when he resisted coming with us. The bullet shattered the front windshield but the glass didn't break. I'm okay. Just shaken."

"Thank God", he said, enfolding me in a tight hug.

"And I'm okay, too, thanks for asking", muttered Couch as Ranger led him over to the bench. Ranger cuffed Couch to the bench and went to move his car. I took my papers up to the docket officer and got my body receipt, all the while followed two steps behind by Morelli.

Ranger came in. "Can we talk somewhere private?" Morelli led us through the bullpen again into an interrogation room.

"What happened exactly?" Morelli asked.

"I picked up a tail a couple of blocks before we got to the lights. The tail got closer, and was right behind us by the time we got to the lights. I could not see who was driving. When we stopped at the red, all hell broke loose. The person behind us pulled out a gun and started shooting out the driver's side window. The first shot hit the edge of the rear window on the passenger side. I pushed Stephanie down. The second shot hit the rear window, went through the car and out the front windshield. This guy is a good shot. If I hadn't pushed Stephanie down, it would have hit her in the head."

"And the blood on Stephanie's shirt?"

"Off the record?" Morelli nodded yes. "Couch didn't want to be taken in. He was shooting at Stephanie, he knocked her to the ground, and basically was just resisting capture, so I broke his nose. It was either hit him or shoot him, and shooting creates a lot of paperwork. Stephanie just happened to be in the way of the blood splatter."

Morelli turned to me. "But you're sure you're okay?"

I nodded yes. "Just shaken."

"No wonder there. You've had a busy day. You've been threatened, strangled, and shot at twice. And it's not even dinner time."

"Have you listened to your messages recently?" asked Ranger.

"No. Do you want to hear them now?" When Morelli and Ranger nodded their heads, I got out my phone and put it on speaker. I keyed in my passcode to listen to my messages. There were two new messages. The first one was "Steph-an-nie. I saw you with that cop boyfriend and your bodyguard at lunch today. Nice bruises. You looked so happy. You looked like you didn't know you were going to die soon. Enjoy your time – you have so little left." I paused playing the messages for a few minutes to get my breath back. The thought that he had been so close and I missed seeing him was not sitting well with me. The second message had just been left minutes before. It was "I missed you this time. Your bodyguard is better than I thought he would be. But it's just a matter of time. It's my mission to kill you and nothing, and no one, will stop me. I know the places you haunt – your apartment, your parents' house, even your boyfriend's place. I looked it up. I will find you. And when I do, I will kill you."

There was a silence around the room. "I guess this means pizza at Pino's is off now?" I said. I was shaking.

Morelli came and sat beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. "I think this means you aren't coming to my place tomorrow, Cupcake. If it's still okay with Ranger, I would like to keep you at his place. His building is more secure than Fort Knox. As long as you stay within his building, you will be safe. From what your stalker said, you won't be safe at my place. And yes, Pino's is definitely out. I'll take you to Pino's when this guy is caught, I promise."

"It's no problem having Stephanie stay with me."

"But I can't catch skips if I can't go out of the building. I'll go nuts not being able to do anything. And I know I keep saying this, but it's a fact. I need the money."

"It's only until Monday afternoon. That's only two days away, and you can tough it out for two days, Babe", Ranger said. "And remember how I said I would have to hire additional staff? I could hire you since you are in the building anyway. This will solve my problem of me needing someone, and your problem of needing money. It's a win-win situation."

I looked at Ranger. "Thanks, but I don't want a pity job."

"It's not a pity job. You already know the search programs and you have done the job before. If you are working the research desk, it will free up another staff member to do patrol. I am incredibly short-staffed right now. You can have the job for as long as you would like – it doesn't have to be over when Brodie is caught. I am sure we can negotiate something, whether it is part-time or full-time. You would be doing me a huge favour to be able to drop someone experienced into the position."

I leaned into Morelli and thought about Ranger's offer. I thought about my situation and about the two men who were trying to protect me. And about Morelli, having to go out of his comfort zone to trust Ranger in an effort to keep me safe. And about Ranger, who gave up a few days when he was short-staffed, a car and almost his life to play bodyguard. "Okay", I said into Morelli's shirt.

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you, Cupcake", Morelli said.

I moved my face away from Morelli's chest. "Okay. Thank you for the job offer. I accept. It will keep me from going nuts while I am stuck in the building", I said to Ranger.

"You do have options, Babe. You can always go to the gym to fill up your time", Ranger said with a smile. I stuck my tongue out at him. He is always trying to convince me to get into better shape and I am always trying to get out of working out. "You realize that these phone messages mean you won't be going with Tank and me when we capture Brodie on Monday, don't you?" Ranger said.

"Fine," I pouted.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have the manpower to continue to keep a car on surveillance at Brodie's house", Ranger said to Morelli. "My instinct says he is staying at a hotel of some sort anyway, and he is paying for his room in cash. I think we should plan the takedown at the psychologist's office."

Morelli kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back in comforting circles. "I agree", he said. "Thank you for giving Stephanie a job."

"No problem. She's doing me a favour." We all stood up and Ranger started towards the door. "How about I bring the car up, and you can meet me in the drop-off area in five minutes? You may want to look at the bullet holes in the car." He turned around and left the room, giving Morelli and me some privacy. Morelli pulled me into a hug and tucked his chin over the top of my head.

"I have been more scared over the last few days than I was the whole time I was in the army. Probably more than I have ever been. If I had known this would happen, I would have bought stock in the Rolaids' company. I have been eating them like they were candy and they are barely making a difference to my heartburn. If this keeps up, I am going to have an ulcer before long."

"I'm sorry."

"I am even glad you are at Ranger's," he continued, "and that he is giving you a job. I was always leery of you taking a job with Ranger, but now I think it is the lesser of two evils. You should consider doing it full-time. You would be safer doing research than skip tracing.

"I will miss you this weekend", he said, "but going into hiding is important for you to do. I'd rather miss you for the weekend than take a chance I would miss you for the rest of my life." He cupped my jaw in his hands and pulled my face up to a kiss that was so tender it had me melting inside. He pulled back and looked at me for a few moments, then leaned down and kissed the tip of my nose. He slung his arm over my shoulders and guided me out of the door to go meet Ranger.


	14. Chapter 14

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 13

**Chapter Fourteen **

We got up to Ranger's before I lost it. We entered the apartment, and I immediately went into the bedroom and started throwing dirty clothes out of my travel bag like a crazy woman. My clothes were all over the floor and his bed. Ranger followed me into the bedroom.

"Are you okay?" Ranger asked.

"Yes", I bit out.

"What are you looking for? Can I help?"

"I want to take a shower, and then I want to get changed into slouchy clothes."

"Slouchy clothes?"

"You know, slouchy clothes. Sweats, t-shirts that are too big, yoga pants – you know, comfort clothes. Clothes that are soft, that bend and stretch. I need some slouchy clothes and I didn't pack any." My eyes filled with tears. "I just need slouchy clothes", I whispered before the tears started to fall.

Ranger came over and folded me into a tight hug. His hand travelled slowly up and down my spine, and he kissed the top of my head. I started to cry in earnest, deep gulping sobs. He held me without saying anything until the worst of the tears had passed. Then he said quietly "I have some sweats you can borrow. I know they will be too big on you, but you could roll up the waistband. Would they do?" I nodded my head and sniffled.

"I'm sorry. I was hoping to make it into the shower before I started to cry. Now I got your shirt all wet."

"That's okay. I can change my shirt." I gave a watery smile and turned to go into the bathroom. Ranger went to the closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, a clean t-shirt and a hoody. "How about these?"

I tucked the clothes under my arm. "Perfect, thanks." I was embarrassed by my outburst, and hurried into the bathroom to have a shower and wash away the melted mascara and traces of my tears. I turned the hot water up to scalding and steamed away any remaining blood splatter. At my own place I would have stayed in the shower until I ran out of hot water. But in Ranger's apartment you never run out of hot water. Instead, I stood in the spray until I turned lobster red and wrinkly.

Here is the thing I have learned about myself over the years. I am fairly resilient. Put me in a terrible position and, with a good cry and a hot shower, I am starting to bounce back. This was no exception to the rule. After my shower I dressed in Ranger's clothes. Wearing his sweats gave me a feeling of security that I was lacking and left me feeling not exactly balanced, but more balanced than I had felt in a few days. With an hour's sleep I would be almost back to normal.

I came out of the bathroom with my dirty clothes and put them in the clothes hamper for Ella to wash. I was starting to run out of clean clothes – I hadn't expected to be at Ranger's for long, and had only packed a couple of days' worth of clean laundry. Ranger came through the bedroom from the office and said that Ella was bringing dinner in about an hour. He came over and gave me a hug, holding me like I was made out of glass. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked.

"Getting there", I said. "When Ella comes up I need to talk to her about bringing me some supplies", I said.

"What sort of supplies?" he asked.

"Girl supplies. By my calculation, I will need them by tomorrow."

"I'll phone Ella and ask her to bring some with her when she brings up dinner. Will that be soon enough?"

I nodded my head. "Do we have to do anything before Ella comes, or would it be okay if I took a nap? I'm beat."

"Nope, this is a good time for a nap. I will be in my office up here working on my new account." He walked me over to the bed and pulled down the covers. He waited until I lay down, and then covered me up again before leaning down to give me a light kiss. "I'll just be in the other room if you need me." He walked out of the room. I covered my head with Ranger's pillow and breathed in the smell of Bulgari Green. A feeling of well-being came over me, and I fell asleep thinking of Ranger.

Forty-five minutes later I was in the middle of a nightmare. In my dream, I was in a small room, and Morelli and Ranger were guarding the door. Brodie came to get me, mowing down Ranger and Morelli with an Uzi as he ran up to the door. The whole time he was laughing, yelling that I was going to die, it was just a matter of time. After Ranger and Morelli died, Tank came to guard the door and he also was killed. I knew then that everyone who protected me would die. I tried to go out to give myself up, to save all the rest of my guard, but I couldn't open the door to the room. I was trapped, and all these people kept coming up to protect me, and they were all dying. It was all my fault. Brodie opened up the door and came to get me, calling my name. I started to fight, clawing, hitting, trying to bite. It was somewhere in the middle of the fighting that I woke up enough to realize that it was Ranger, not Brodie, who was calling my name. Ranger captured my wrists and held them with one hand so that I couldn't hit him anymore, and with the other shook my shoulder. I stopped fighting, eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No. Want to tell me about it?" He let go of my wrists, pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

"No. I want to forget the dream." I took a deep breath and then, as though I couldn't stop, the words started tumbling out anyway. "It's just that everyone kept dying. I was alive, and you and Morelli and Tank and everyone at Rangeman all worked to protect me, and everyone kept dying. And then Brodie came to kill me anyway."

"No one is going to kill you", Ranger said quietly. "And no one is going to kill Morelli or me or Tank or anyone else. You are safe here at Rangeman, and we are safe if you are in an area where Brodie can't get to you. You realize that, right? Brodie isn't interested in Morelli and me. But from what Brodie said, he would consider us collateral damage if he had to kill us to get to you. He can't get to you if you stay at Rangeman. There is therefore no need for collateral damage. You keeping out of sight is what will keep all of us alive."

Ella came into the apartment. Ranger pushed me off his lap, and we walked in to help Ella with her tray of food. Ella had a shopping bag hooked over her wrist. She put down the tray and turned to me, gasping as she saw the bruises on my neck. Recovering quickly, she handed me the shopping bag. "Ranger said you would be staying for a few days more and you were going to be working for us again. You still have your Rangeman uniforms in Ranger's closet to wear in the control room, but Ranger suggested you could use some more comfortable clothes. I bought you a couple of pairs of yoga pants. I figured you may prefer to wear Ranger's t-shirts and hoodies when you are wearing more comfortable clothes, but you would need some more underwear and socks, so I bought those, too. I think I remembered the sizes right. If they aren't the right size, let me know and I will exchange them tomorrow afternoon. Put any clothes you need washed in Ranger's hamper and I will wash them tomorrow morning. Ranger called me and said you also needed some supplies. I didn't know what brand or type you prefer, so I bought an assortment. Let me know if there is something I missed or if you want something else and I will get it for you tomorrow. I also got you a novel. Ranger doesn't have any books to read and I figured you wouldn't be working all the time. I didn't know what you like to read, so I got a mystery book with some romance in it. I hope that's okay." I went over to Ella and gave her a hug, thanking her for her help. Embarrassed, she waved off my thanks and left the apartment.

"That was really nice of Ella to drop everything to go shopping", I said. "Thanks for asking Ella to go."

"It was no problem. I personally don't really understand the need for slouchy clothes, but Ella seemed to get it. When I told her what you wanted, she offered to go out and get them right away." Ranger got out cutlery and set the table while I ran glasses of water. I looked at the tray. There were two plates, each covered over by a bowl. I peaked under the bowls. Each plate held a steak, baked potato, sautéed mushrooms and broccoli. There was a small bowl of sour cream and another small bowl of chopped chives. There was a basket of warm rolls as well. I put out the hot dinner plates, and placed the sour cream and the chives in the middle of the table. I added butter from the counter. Ranger poured a couple of glasses of red wine, and we sat down at the table to eat. Despite not being hungry and my throat being sore, I ate the whole meal.

After finishing our dinner, Ranger put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I put some food in Rex's food dish, then covered the leftover sour cream and chives and went to put them away. When I was putting them in the fridge I noticed a piece of strawberry cheesecake on a plate, covered over with plastic wrap. I looked at Ranger questioningly. I know Ranger's "no dessert" rule. "Go on," he said, "I think after surviving your day today you deserve it."

I grinned. I felt like Christmas had come early. "Where did you get it?" I asked.

"Ella was serving cheesecake to Luis for dessert tonight. She brought up a piece for you as a special surprise."

"I think I love that woman. If it was up to me, I would give her a raise", I said. Ranger's lips twitched into a small smile. "Do you want some?"

Truthfully, I was glad when Ranger said no. My family uses food as a tranquillizer. Give us a problem and we will use pie, cake, cookies, ice cream, whipped cream, fruit crisps and pudding to make the problem go away. I was feeling pretty mellow after the crying jag, the shower, the sleep, and the slouchy clothes, but that cheesecake finished propelling me into the realm of feeling good again. The cheesecake was excellent. I almost licked the plate clean before stacking it in the dishwasher and putting the dishwasher on.

I joined Ranger of the couch, cuddling into his side. "I could make you look at me like you looked at that cheesecake, you know", Ranger said.

"You're right, you could. But you won't."

"Not tonight, I'm not. But that doesn't mean I won't another night."

"I know." I didn't tell him, but in some ways I was counting on it.

The next morning I woke up with an arm wrapped around my middle, my breast in Ranger's palm, and some of his assets poking me in my back. I also woke up with bad menstrual cramps. I moaned a little and shifted slowly away from Ranger, and he hugged me tighter to him and kissed the back of my neck. A warmth slid down my spine and I instinctively arched my neck to give him greater access.

"I would love to follow this up, Babe," he said as he kissed his way down my shoulder, "but we have a lot of work to do today."

"The timing sucks for me, too. I don't feel so great. It's a good thing Ella brought the supplies last night."

Ranger moved his hand down and covered my abdomen with his palm. Heat spread through my belly, soothing the discomfort. "Can I get you anything?"

"Some pain relievers? If you could tell me where I can get them, I'll go take some now. That and a long hot shower should fix me up."

"I'll get you the medication, then let you go back to sleep while I have a shower. I won't be long, and then the bathroom is free for however long you want it."

After my shower I still felt like wearing slouchy clothes, so I put on a pair of my new yoga pants and paired them with one of my Rangeman uniform t-shirts. I borrowed one of Ranger's hoodies that I rolled up at the sleeves. Dressed for the day, I walked out of the bedroom to join Ranger for breakfast. He handed me a coffee and led me over to the table. On it was a thigh holster, a belt holster and a baby Glock.

"You know the drill – you have worked for me before. While you work for me you will be required to wear a gun at all times. The gun needs to be loaded and ready to use. Have you been to the shooting range recently?" I told him that I try to go once a week, although I may have fudged that a little – or a lot. I hate guns and I don't like shooting them. They are noisy, and they can cause severe damage. And since I am a terrible shot, that damage may occur to someone I wasn't aiming for. "You wouldn't have been strangled by Elanski if you had a gun trained on him", he said. "In this line of business, it is imperative to have a gun."

"But it is illegal to conceal a gun."

"So carry it out in the open. That is what my staff does. You don't have to carry concealed. You do, however, have to carry one." He continued, "I went ahead and booked an hour at three o'clock for us to go down to the shooting range to practice with your gun. I want you to try loading it, and shooting it, until you generally just feel comfortable with it in your hand."

"Okay", I said. I didn't think I would ever feel comfortable with it in my hand.

"Why don't you put it on while I set the table for breakfast. Ella made omelets, toast and fruit salad this morning, and sent up some freshly squeezed orange juice."

I struggled a bit with putting on the thigh holster while Ranger put out the food on the table, then got myself another cup of coffee. We sat down to eat. "Did you want me to do searches today?"

"Yes, you'll be working at Miguel's desk. He's been working part-time doing searches and part-time doing patrol. He wants to solely work patrol again, so he will be happy to have you take over. Because Miguel has been working only part-time on searches, there is a backlog that needs to be caught up on. Just as a reminder, my searches are a greater priority than the Operations searches, and the Operations searches are a greater priority than the Sales team searches. You will be working in the desk off the control room again. You are free to go wherever you want in the office, although you are not free to go into the gym's change room. You are still the only female staff member other than Ella, so tell me if anyone causes you any problems. Any questions?"

"Nope. Not from me."

"Did the shower help? Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"The bottle of pain relievers is on the counter in the kitchen if you need more. Now, I have a meeting in twenty minutes and I need to introduce you to any staff that are new since the last time you worked here. Let's go."


	15. Chapter 15

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 9

**Chapter Fifteen **

There are two main stations in the control room. The first monitors all Rangeman properties, vehicles, and the police band. The second monitors all client sites. Monitoring can be via video, GPS and/or audio link. Staff work in four hour shifts, with the remaining four hours of the workday spent in patrol cars. The monitoring stations are staffed 24/7. A quiet area in the building, lights are dim and staff often speak to each other in whispers. Where I would be working was a desk just off the control room. It is infected by the quiet although a desk lamp makes up for the dimness in light. The lack of sound puts me to sleep.

Hal was working the client monitoring station on the floor. I've known Hal for a long time. Nicknamed Halosaurus, he is as big as a stegosaurus. He's very kind, fiercely loyal to Ranger, and would do anything to help you. He worked a protection detail for me a few months ago, and we have remained friends ever since. I was glad to see him again. He gave me a huge smile and welcomed me back on the floor.

The second person was Eduardo. He was new to me. He was small and wiry, with tattoos all over his arms and neck. With his two tear drop tattoos under his eye, denoting that he had killed two people in his past, he looked fierce. I sidled closer to Ranger when I met Eduardo. Eduardo said hi, then turned back to his perusal of his screens. He didn't seem very friendly.

Ranger took me back to my desk before giving me a quick kiss and going off to his meeting. Miguel had left the desk very tidy. There were a pile of files in the "in" basket on the desk. Ranger wasn't kidding when he said they were getting backlogged. It would take me a few days to get caught up. I checked the drawers and found the usual sticky notes, labels, pens, paperclips and stapler. There was a printer on the table behind me with extra printer paper and file folders. Everything looked like it was all set and ready to go. I sat down and turned on the computer. I spun my chair around in a circle and listened to the quiet. And I remembered that the last time I worked on the research desk I fell asleep. While I waited for the computer to boot up, I went back up to Ranger's apartment and got my phone and a set of earphones from my bag. I went back down to the research desk, cued up my favourite playlist, and plugged in my earphones. I was set for the day.

I sorted the files into those requested by Ranger, those requested by Operations, and those requested by Sales. The files requested by Tank I included with the ones requested by Operations, although I put them at higher priority in the Operations pile. Ranger had four companies and their associated staff that he wanted searched. Each company had at least twelve staff to research. I took out my earphones and paused my playlist. I walked back to the break room to get a coffee, asking Hal and Eduardo whether they would like something while I was back there. Hal smiled and thanked me, saying that they had just got coffees a few minutes before. Eduardo nodded in my direction, barely taking his eyes off the monitors. I think that was his way of thanking me as well.

I helped myself to a coffee, then headed back to my desk. I took a deep breath, then opened the file from Ranger that was the oldest. I got started on searching the company particulars as well as searching each member of the staff. By lunchtime I had printed off reams of paper and had finished the first file. I went to the break room, meeting up with Miguel.

"I am so glad to be off the research desk", Miguel said. "I really missed being out in the patrol car. I find it hard sitting in one spot for so long. I tell you, I sure did my happy dance when I heard you were coming." I smiled. I wasn't doing my happy dance doing the research. I too found it hard to sit for so long.

I ate a roast beef and Havarti with mustard, mayo, lettuce and tomato on a Kaiser for lunch. I also had some carrot and celery sticks with dressing. I washed it all down with a bottle of cranberry juice. After catching up with Miguel, I headed back to the desk to start the research on the second company. Miguel headed to the control room station, to take over monitoring duty from Hal.

On a whim, I decided to call the three gun clubs in the Trenton area to ask if they had a Pete Brodie listed as a member. The second gun club I called did. I asked for a list of the guns that Pete Brodie owned, and got a list of five guns. Amongst these guns, one was a sniper rifle and one was an automatic pistol. I phoned the information in to Morelli and put it aside for Ranger to see after his meeting.

By three o'clock I was almost glad when Ranger showed up at my desk and reminded me that it was time to go down to the shooting range. As much as I hated using guns, I was pretty much ready to shoot myself. I told Ranger about my findings about Brodie being a member of the gun club.

"Good work", he said. "I didn't think about checking the gun clubs. This could give Morelli some more evidence to be used against Brodie when it is time to convict him."

We went down to the basement to the shooting range. We were the only people there. Ranger had me practice pulling the weapon out of the holster. Then he gave me a box of bullets, and had me practice loading the gun. Finally, he cued a target up, sending the target half way down the length of the shooting range. I practiced shooting the target at the closer distance before Ranger sent another target back to the full distance. I then practiced shooting the target at the farther distance. When my arm was getting tired from holding the gun and shooting it, Ranger said I was finished for the day. He said we would do the whole thing again tomorrow, and would continue to do so daily until I could shoot a bulls-eye consistently. Oh, goody. Practicing shooting the gun reminded me again of why I don't like shooting guns. I have never hoped for a bulls-eye so much in my entire life.

On the way back up to my desk Ranger and I were talking about the research I was doing. He asked me how it was going. "It is better doing it this time than it was the last time I was here. I got my phone out and have been listening to music, and that is the only thing that has kept me awake. It would be helpful if I knew what you were looking for when I am doing the searches. I could maybe then read the files as I am waiting for them to print and see if I can pull something out, highlight something for you to look at. It would keep me from falling asleep."

Ranger thought that it might be helpful to highlight concerns on sticky notes, and attach them to the print-offs. He said for his files he wants to know any past criminal history of any employees, and to know relationships between the employees. He also said that, if something comes up that seems off to me for whatever reason, he wants to know that too. "You have a keen instinct. I want to take advantage of that. If anything seems wrong to you, even if you don't know why, I want to know." Okay by me. Hopefully doing the analysis will keep me awake and sane.

We got up to the control room, and Miguel said my phone had been ringing. I apologized. I had forgotten to turn off my phone before leaving for the shooting range, and had left my phone on my desk. "Let's listen to your messages", Ranger said, and picked up my phone and took it into his office. He handed me my phone, letting me key in my passcode and turn up the volume. Two messages were recorded. The first was "Steph-an-nie! Come out, come out wherever you are. This is like hide and seek. I'm good at hide and seek, and I know where you are hiding. It's just a matter of time now. You can't stay in there forever." The second was a very angry-sounding "Steph-an-nie! Is your bodyguard prepared to die while he is trying to save you? Is your cop-boyfriend? Because if I don't find you soon, I will kill both of them. And it will all be your fault. Think about that when you are attending their funerals."

I turned white and started to shake. I started hyperventilating and my vision went cobwebby and black around the edges. Ranger, taking one look at my face, guided me into a chair and pushed my head between my knees. "Deep slow breaths, Babe. In through the nose and out through the mouth", he said quietly. After a minute or so he let me sit up again, but when I went to talk he interrupted me, saying "not yet. Just concentrate on your breathing".

When I had some colour in my face and I had stopped shaking, I said "I'm sorry. I just find it upsetting to think that he is now going after you and Morelli. This is about me, not you. I'm the one who has wronged him, in his mind. This is just like my dream. Why does he have to threaten you?"

"Because by hiding you away we are getting to him. He thinks he is smarter than us, that he will be able to draw you out by threatening us."

"But maybe that is what I should do. Maybe I should go out where he can see me, so he stops threatening you."

"No. He is playing with you like a cat plays with a mouse. And that will work if you let it, if you give in to the game he is playing. You can't do that. It is imperative you stay in the building. Did you hear how angry he sounded? He is starting to get off-balanced and we will be able to use that to our advantage. We just have to remain calm and stay the course.

"I think we should phone Morelli now to tell him about the new threat", he continued. "Perhaps we should invite him over for dinner? Then Morelli can hear the message himself. What do you think?"

"Sure, you can invite Morelli. But tell him to be careful. I don't want this to be Brodie's trap, luring Morelli to the Rangeman building so that he can target Morelli."

"I will tell him to park in the underground parking." Ranger called Morelli. "There have been another couple of messages on Stephanie's phone. We were wondering whether you would like to come into the office to have dinner here so that you can listen to them." I then heard Ranger say "she's okay, but shaken. These messages were especially upsetting to her. More so with these than with the rest." There was a pause, and then Ranger said "I think we should stay the course. We can talk about it more when you get here. Say about six o'clock? Oh, and I will tell Reception you are coming and will park in the underground parking lot. When you get to the gate, just buzz in and they will lift the gate for you." Ranger hung up the phone. "You look beat. Do you want to have a nap before Morelli shows up?"

"Maybe a hot shower?"

"Still feeling crappy?"

"A bit."

"Have a hot shower and a nap. I'll come wake you at a quarter to six. Okay?" I nodded my head before turning around and escaping upstairs into a hot shower.


	16. Chapter 16

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Sixteen **

By a quarter to six I was feeling much better. I had taken some pain relievers, had a hot shower, had changed into more slouchy clothes, and had an hour's sleep. I felt more balanced and able to face hearing the messages again. Ranger came up and kissed me awake. "We will eat at the conference table in my office. We will eat from the food Ella puts out for the staff – I have already warned Ella and asked her to make extra. I don't have a problem with you being in my space, Babe, but there are very few people who have seen the inside of my apartment and I like it that way."

"I figured that. Lula has been after me for a tour and I keep avoiding telling her when I am coming here because I figured the last thing you need is to have Lula in your building."

Ranger smiled. Lula would wreak havoc on the building if she came here. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked.

"Much, thank you. I borrowed some more of your clothes. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all. I like knowing my clothes are near your naked skin." His lips twitched in an almost-smile. He gave me another kiss and helped me off the bed. "Morelli will be waiting for us – we had better get going." He led me from the bedroom and out the front door to the elevator. Together, we went down to the parking level to meet Morelli.

After helping ourselves to the small buffet that Ella had prepared in the break room, Ranger, Morelli and I carried our food into Ranger's office and set it on the small conference table. Ranger got my phone out and I played the two messages for the three of us to hear. Morelli listened to them, hiding his reaction by looking down at his shoe. At the end of the messages he looked up, his cop face firmly in place. "I think it is a good thing Stephanie is staying in the Rangeman building", he said.

"I'm worried", I said. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to anybody because of me."

"Nothing will happen, Cupcake. He is just playing you. He doesn't want to hurt Ranger or myself. What he wants is for you to come out of hiding so he can kill you. You can't give him that. If you come out of hiding, it will be very difficult for us to protect you and ourselves. But if you stay in hiding we only have to look after ourselves. And that makes our job a whole lot easier."

"What worries me is that he has to be somewhere around here," Ranger said. "It seems like he is keeping his eye on the building, to know that Stephanie is still here. And I'm frustrated – because I'm so short-staffed I don't have the necessary manpower to find him."

"Now, tomorrow he is scheduled to meet with his psychologist for a late morning appointment. We don't know the exact time", he continued. "I would suggest that Stephanie stay here and continue working on the research desk, and Tank, Hal and I do surveillance in separate cars on the psychologist's office. We will show up at nine o'clock and will give him until one o'clock. We will be wearing earbuds which will allow us to talk to each other and to the control room at the same time. How does that sound for how we are handling it?"

"That sounds like a good plan. Where do you need me?" asked Morelli.

"I was thinking it may be a good idea to have you waiting in the actual office. With being police you will be able to get more information from Dr. Fineman and will have a better idea what is going on. I will give you an ear-bud before you go tonight, so we don't have to meet up each other tomorrow in case he is watching. I don't want to make it blatantly obvious we are setting up a net. I will also lend you a bullet-proof vest. The Kevlar I have is thinner to wear than the standard police issue, and will be more comfortable and cooler for wearing for as long a period of time as you will be wearing it sitting in the office."

"Thank you."

"I was also thinking it might be a good idea for you to drive Stephanie's car home tonight. With Stephanie having a new car, I don't think Brodie has figured out what she drives yet. If Brodie is watching the building, he may have recognized you driving into the underground. If you drive out in Stephanie's car, he will hopefully not notice you in the dark tonight and won't follow you. I don't want you in danger when you are walking from your car to your house, or back again tomorrow morning. And I don't want your car recognized when Brodie goes to his appointment", Ranger said.

"What about me? I can't calmly work the research desk while you are all in danger! Can't I come, too?" I cried.

"NO!" Ranger and Morelli said at the same time.

"You can't come. You would be in an incredible amount of danger, and would put all of us in danger", Ranger said. "But I can see your point. I would have trouble doing research, too. How about this? Rafael will have a lot to do to coordinate what is going on with us at the same time as he monitors all the Rangeman facilities and vehicles. I will give you an ear-bud so you can work with Rafael here in the control room, then the two of you can monitor and coordinate what is happening. Would that work, Babe?"

Appeased, I said "okay. Just as long as I am involved." Ranger gave a small smile.

Morelli said "on another note, I followed up with the gun club this afternoon. Good catch, by the way, Cupcake. Of the five guns that he owns, two match the type of bullets we recovered from Stephanie's apartment and the car frame. It is circumstantial evidence, but would help to sway a jury. And the gun club said he is a crack shot. Be careful out there."

"Good", Ranger said. "Do we have a plan then?"

"Yes", Morelli and I answered.

"Okay. I hate to cut this time short, but I still have work to do on one of my new accounts that I need to get done tonight." He went over to his computer and plugged my phone in. "I will send copies of the last two phone messages to you, Morelli, so that you have the option to play them for Dr. Fineman if you want." He sat down at the computer and started typing. "Okay, you should receive them in a few minutes." Seconds later we heard the ping of Morelli's phone. Ranger got up and said "follow me to the storeroom and I will get those supplies I promised you. Stephanie, perhaps you can get Morelli your car keys while I do that?" When I came back Ranger was saying to Morelli "the ear-bud will only send when you are talking but will receive everything. I will go over how it is monitored with Stephanie tonight. Rafael has done monitoring of these earpieces before, so we will be well represented in the office." Ranger shook Morelli's hand and wished him luck. "With luck we will catch this guy tomorrow, and this will all be a bad memory."

I walked Morelli down to the parking garage. "How are you doing with all this?" he asked.

"Better than I was this afternoon. I was pretty upset."

"I don't blame you. I just wish I had known how dangerous this man was a lot sooner. I wish we had the information when we first booked him that we have now. Then he might not have been released on bail in the first place. At some point I will need to get you to file an assault charge based on him throwing the dirt in your face and the money at you. I will get Dr. Fineman to identify the voice on the recording tomorrow. That will provide more evidence as well. I want to tie this up nice and tight. I don't want to take the chance this guy gets off and comes back to terrorize you again."

"And if I wasn't such a bumbling idiot", I said, "then I would have captured him the first time around and we wouldn't be going through this. It just tears me up to think I am putting you in danger."

"It is my job", he said.

"And I hate your job. Your job sucks."

"Isn't that my line? And it only sucks sometimes, Cupcake. Usually it is pretty routine."

"And isn't that my line?" I asked with a smile.

He pulled me into a kiss. "Do you know what I would like to be doing right now?" And he whispered a few suggestions in my ear.

"Stop – you'll make me blush", I smiled. "Besides, I am out of commission for the next few days."

"That makes me feel better about you staying with Ranger", he smiled. He leaned down and gave me a tight hug. After giving me a deep kiss, he whispered "stay safe" in my ear and walked out to my car.


	17. Chapter 17

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 7

**Chapter Seventeen **

After Ranger showed me how to monitor the station, he headed back to his office to work on his new account and I went up to the apartment to worry about the surveillance the next day. I tried to watch TV, but could not find anything of interest. Out of desperation, I picked up the novel that Ella had brought me.

The novel was a story about a female police officer who was chasing a thief. In the book she didn't know that the thief was her boyfriend. I don't know how she could not know. It seemed pretty obvious to me. Of course, I didn't know that Brodie would act the way he had either when I started chasing him. In the book, the police officer kept going to bed with the thief. There were some pretty graphic sex scenes. I skipped through those. I had enough going on with trying to keep my hands off Ranger. I didn't need to give my body any more ideas.

Ranger came into the apartment and saw me reading. "How's the book?" he asked.

"I always find it amazing that women can spend a quarter of their lives having a period, but that in a book the heroine never has one", I said.

Ranger smiled. "I guess that wouldn't make for good reading", he said. I put down the book and asked him if he was ready to go to bed. He stretched and said he was, saying he wanted to get up early for a work out the next morning. He set his watch alarm for five thirty. "How are you feeling?" he asked as we were getting ready for bed.

"I'm starting to get sore again. I took some more pain relievers. I'll be glad to go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better – usually only the first day is bad for me." We climbed into bed and Ranger flipped me on my stomach. He started massaging my lower back, easing out the cramps. When I felt completely boneless and sleepy, he moved me onto my side and cuddled me from behind like two spoons nestled in a drawer. I fell asleep with his arm wrapped around me and his warm hand on my abdomen.

The next day I woke up to Ranger's body wrapped around me and the sound of Ranger's alarm going off. Ranger quickly shut off the alarm and tried to ease out of the bed without disturbing me. "It's okay", I mumbled. "I'm awake."

"I'm sorry", he said. "I didn't want to wake you." He got the rest of the way out of the bed and leaned down to give me a kiss. "I'll be back in about an hour and a half. How about you go back to sleep?"

"Okay." I yawned sleepily. Mornings are not my time of the day. Both the men in my life are morning people. The alarm goes off and they are wide awake, ready for the day. In comparison, my alarm goes off and I grope blindly for it in an attempt to shut it off. I have killed several alarm clocks by knocking them onto the floor as I tried to turn off the alarm in my sleep. I have started to have to keep my alarm clock on the other side of the room just so I have to wake up and walk over to it in order to shut it off.

I turned over and buried my head in the pillow. I was asleep again before Ranger left the apartment.

Ranger and I had breakfast before we left the apartment for the day. I had two cups of coffee. Ranger didn't have any. He said it was better not to drink too much before doing a four-hour surveillance. I guess I could see his point.

We met Tank, Hal and Rafael in the storeroom. Ranger, Tank and Hal got suited up in Kevlar, and all of us put in earbuds. The Merry Men were ready to go. I walked them down to the parking garage, giving Ranger a hug and a quick kiss before watching them leave. "Stay safe", I whispered to them as they drove out of the parking garage.

About ten to nine in the morning I could see that all of the cars, including mine, were sitting in place in the area of the doctor's office. At nine o'clock, Rafael and I did a sound check like we planned. Everybody was in place and on line. We started to wait.

Around nine thirty we could hear Morelli talk to the doctor. It was confirmed that Brodie was expected at eleven in the morning for his appointment. Morelli played the phone messages for Dr. Fineman, and the doctor said that the voice sounded like Brodie but that the messages didn't. "I can't talk about what we talked about during our sessions, but I have found that over the past week he hasn't seemed so angry." Morelli asked him whether there was a chance the balance Brodie had found could be a result of a focus on me. Dr. Fineman thought for a moment, then said "Hypothetically speaking, I suppose it could. Having someone to focus all that anger on could reduce the level of anger he feels in other parts of his life."

"How is Stephanie dealing with this?" Dr. Fineman asked, concerned.

"She's in hiding. She's upset, but she is handling it. She's a survivor. She'll be okay."

"Good." Dr. Fineman's next patients came in for their appointment and Morelli settled down to wait again.

"Damn straight, you're a survivor", Tank said.

"Don't worry", said Hal. "We'll get this jerk."

My eyes filled with tears for a moment. "Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. Just you guys be safe, okay?"

We waited for another forty minutes. Dr. Fineman's patients left and there was a five minute gap between patients. Morelli used that time to talk further with Dr. Fineman.

"Is the pattern of escalation that you heard in the phone messages something you would expect from someone with that level of anger? I'll explain what I mean. On our side, we think that it has progressed rapidly between the first point where he threw mud in Stephanie's face – simple assault – almost two weeks ago, to harassment and vandalism a week ago – also both more simple charges – followed by a jump in severity of behaviour to stalking her and shooting her through her apartment window, to following her and shooting her when she was travelling in the car. What is he so angry about?" Morelli asked.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give out that information. He did start talking about a new, personally disturbing, topic last week which may have influenced his behaviour. But that information is protected by patient confidentiality." Dr. Fineman's next patients came into the office and Morelli went back to waiting while Dr. Fineman took his patients into his inner office.

"I hate patient confidentiality", Morelli muttered. I could hear Ranger smiling in agreement over the channel.

Eleven o'clock came and there was no Brodie. Eleven thirty came and there was no Brodie. Twelve o'clock came and there was no Brodie. At twelve thirty the doctor broke for lunch and checked his messages. There was one message from Brodie. Dr. Fineman played it for Morelli. It said "hi there. I have to cancel my appointment today. I am in the process of something and I have to see it through. I am not getting the anger outbursts though that I was. There is a woman who is helping me, who is channeling my anger. I will definitely be there for my Thursday appointment to tell you about it. I want to start flying again. See you at eleven on Thursday."

Morelli had Dr. Fineman play the message back again while he recorded the message on his phone. He then called off the surveillance. Ranger arranged for everyone to meet back at Rangeman for lunch and a debriefing session.


	18. Chapter 18

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 5

**Chapter Eighteen **

Ranger, Morelli, Tank and Hal brought their lunch down from the break room to meet Raphael and me in the big boardroom. We each had an assortment of sandwiches, fruit, vegetables and yogurts to eat, and waters, milk and juices to drink. "One thing about Rangeman," Morelli said, "the food sure is better than at the precinct."

"It may seem like we didn't accomplish much this morning," said Ranger, "but we did do some things. We were able to get out of the building without being followed, which cements our thought that Brodie is only interested in Stephanie. The fact that we all went different directions and staggered the time in which we left probably helped as well."

"I don't know if he will keep his promise to make the Thursday appointment, but we have identified that as another surveillance date", Morelli pointed out.

"In the meantime, Stephanie and I will do some basic self-defence training. And we will continue to practice shooting." Turning to me, Ranger said "I want you to be as prepared as possible in case you ever come up to this guy face to face again."

"I don't need self-defence and shooting lessons", I said.

"The bruises on your neck say otherwise, Babe", Ranger said.

"I also need to take your statement regarding the mud-throwing incident", Morelli said to me. "I already have your statements for the two shootings."

"Do you know whether you have received any more messages yet today?" asked Ranger.

"No, I don't." I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned the power on. I got into my message centre, then turned up the volume. There was one message since I had last accessed my voicemail. "I warned you that people will die. If you don't come out to meet me, I will come in and root you out like the little cunt you are. Your bodyguard will die; your cop-boyfriend will die; I will kill everyone in that building and save you for last. That's not a threat. That's a promise. Only you have the power to save all the people in that building. If you come out, I will save the other people. You get to choose between you and the others – how selfless are you?"

There was a silence around the room. "That message was left at ten o'clock this morning", I said quietly, with a catch in my throat.

"I will put all staff on high alert and inform the staff working Reception to keep their guns ready", Tank said.

"He sounds angry", Rafael said.

"Don't worry, Stephanie", Hal said, "he won't be able to get into the Rangeman facility. It is locked up pretty tight here. Ranger designs only the best."

Morelli and Ranger sat looking at me. I wrapped my arms around my middle and bent forward slightly at the waist, looking down at the ground. "I'm not okay with this", I began. "Maybe it would just be better if…"

"Don't say it!" Ranger interrupted. "We've been over this, Babe. If you go out there our attention will be divided between protecting you and protecting ourselves, and we could get hurt as a result. And so could you."

"I just don't want anyone to get hurt", I said in a tortured voice, still not meeting anyone's eyes.

"No one will get hurt as long as you continue to stay here, Cupcake", Morelli said. "Hal's right. Ranger does design the best security systems and the crown jewel is this building. You will be safe here. And I agree with Ranger. You being safe will help keep all of us safe."

"Stephanie, our staff are well trained. We can handle this threat. The only one not okay with this is you, and we are telling you we have your back, and that we will find and capture this guy. It may take a bit of time. You may be holed up here longer than you had expected. But we will catch this guy. And then you'll be safe." That was the longest speech I had ever heard Tank say. He is usually the silent but steady guy.

The meeting wrapped up shortly afterwards. Morelli and I stayed back in the boardroom so I could give my assault statement. After giving my statement and signing the paperwork, I walked Morellli down to the underground parking. Just outside the elevator doors, Morelli wrapped his arms around me and gave me a tight hug. "Don't worry, Cupcake", he said, "we will catch this guy."

"I know. I just worry about the number of people who will go down in the process."

"Don't torture yourself. If you are safe, the chances of having others go down are lessened", he replied. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you're at Ranger's. The best protection I could provide would be to handcuff you to the furnace and wait for Bob to lick the guy to death." He angled his head down for a kiss, and pulled my body against his until there was no space between us. He put his hands under the hem of my shirt and lightly stroked the undersides of my breasts with his thumbs. I kissed him back for a few moments, then pulled back slightly. It felt sort of weird to be with Morelli when I was in Ranger's building on Ranger's cameras. I gave Morelli a playful, smacking kiss and told him that I had to get back to work. I think I handled it okay, because he smiled and watched me as I got back in the elevator, then turned around and walked to his car.


	19. Chapter 19

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 13

**Chapter Nineteen **

Ranger came to get me at three o'clock again. He had a box of bullets in his hand. "The gun looks good on you, Babe", he said and he gave a little smile.

I looked at him quizzically. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just admiring the view. There is something wildly erotic about a sexy badass woman with a gun."

Oh boy.

We worked on drawing the gun from the holster, and loading the gun again. We then worked on stance for a while. I only shot at the far targets today, and by the end of the hour I was doing much better. I didn't hit any bulls-eyes, but I did get some in the inner circles. Ranger seemed pleased as well.

We went next to the gym. "I don't need self-defence lessons. I just kick someone in the nuts and that seems to solve the problem", I complained as I took off my gun and stripped down to my yoga pants and t-shirt.

"What about if the assailant grabbed you before you were able to kick them?" he said, and like a shot grabbed me from behind and held me tightly, one arm around my throat and the other holding my arms down at my sides.

I just stood there. "I don't know what I'd do, but I'm sure I'd think of something", I said.

"So do it. Think of something and get out of this."

"I don't want to take the chance that I will hurt you."

"Don't worry about me. I don't hurt easily. Go ahead. Try to get out." I struggled a bit, not wanting to hurt Ranger. "You can do better than that. I have seen you in action. Come on, try to get out." And he taunted me until I started to struggle in earnest. I couldn't get out, though, no matter what I did. Every time I loosened his hold, he redoubled his efforts and tightened the hold again.

After a few minutes, Ranger let me go. "That is why you need self-defence lessons, Babe. You have to be able to get yourself out of any situation. Kicking someone in the balls only works if you can reach the balls. The way I was holding you, it would have been impossible to kick me. And that move only works on men. Gouging out someone's eyes, hitting them in the windpipe, protecting yourself from strangulation, kicking out someone's knee, stomping on someone's instep – they are moves that work on both sexes. We will work on some of these moves between the two of us and, once you become more comfortable with them, I will ask Tank to come in and act as the dummy while I help you with technique. I figure that, if you are used to working with Tank, you won't be intimidated by anyone, no matter the size.

Then, shucking off his sweatshirt, he started to work with me. By the end of the hour I was sweaty and frustrated and angry. But I was also able to get out of a couple of holds, and Ranger seemed pleased. He threw me a towel and a bottle of water. "Good work", he said. "I was throwing some tough stuff at you, and you were getting the hang of it. I don't think it will be long before you will be working with Tank."

Great. I can't wait.

We went up to Ranger's apartment so that I could have a shower. I was damp and my body was sore from struggling so much. After having the shower I walked out to the bedroom to change, dressed only in a towel and underwear. "Come here", Ranger said. "I have some body lotion here, and I will rub your muscles down so that you don't stiffen up. You aren't used to that kind of exercise." He pushed back the covers off the bed. I looked at him, using my "I don't trust you" look. "I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. Trust me, okay? I just want to make you feel better."

I shrugged and lay down on the bed. I did trust him, and besides, my muscles were pretty sore despite the hot shower that I had taken. "Thanks", I said.

Ranger removed the towel once I was lying down, throwing the damp towel on the floor. He squirted some lotion on my back and started to rub it in, paying particular attention to the small of my back. "Are you still sore there?" he asked.

"No, just twinges. Not too bad." He moved onto my upper back, neck, shoulders and arms. I was almost asleep by the time he had moved on to my legs and feet. He covered me with the quilt.

"I'll leave you to sleep. I'm going to have a long, cold, shower now", he said in a strangled whisper. I smiled drowsily and fell asleep.

An hour later Ranger came and kissed me awake for dinner. "Ella has made tuna steaks for dinner. It smells good. Are you ready to get up to eat, or do you want to sleep through to morning?" he asked.

"Nope. I'll get up, thanks. Dinner sounds good. I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"That's okay. That was what I was aiming for – to get your muscles to relax. You were doing really well today." He set the table and put out the dinner plates while I poured water.

"Well, I still couldn't get out of the holds, so I wasn't doing well enough."

"But I could definitely see an improvement by the end of the hour. It was getting harder to hang on to you. If we do an hour of that every day you are here, you will be much more able to protect yourself if you need to."

"If we do the aprés work out every day, too, I will have melted into a pile of goo." I smiled. "Thanks for that, by the way. My body feels better."

"I could make your body feel even better." He smiled. "Just give me a sign and I'll be ready." He paused and turned serious. "Have you listened to your messages recently?"

"No."

"Why don't you check while I clean up from dinner?" We finished eating and then I went to get my phone. After Ranger stacked the dishwasher and I had fed Rex and changed his water, Ranger and I sat on the couch and played back my messages. There was one since lunchtime. It was "Steph-an-nie. I am getting really angry with you. I will come and get you soon. When I see you I will kill all your friends, then fuck you good. And then I will kill you, too. Be ready." I turned off my phone and, hand shaking, put the phone on the coffee table.

"I will get a copy of the call to Morelli in a few minutes. Are you okay?" Ranger asked.

"Just peachy."

Ranger's lips twitched into a small smile. He pulled me onto his lap and held me close to his chest. I listened to his heartbeat, slow and steady, while he spoke. "He is getting more focused in his messages. But it still feels a bit like he is making his plan up as he goes along, Babe. Having said that, he has concentrated on wanting to kill everyone in the last few messages. The anger underlying that is the cornerstone of the harassment. He is now adding rape to his list of threats. Rape is about anger and power. It will take a few more messages to determine if the rape is a passing comment or whether it has become part of his ultimate plan." He cupped my jaw in his hand and gave me a slow and tender kiss. "We will not give him the chance to get to you, okay, Babe? And tomorrow we will work on getting out of holds when you are lying on the ground. Now, I think we should call Morelli and let him know about this newest threat." He gave me another quick kiss and helped me off his lap, then took my phone over to his computer. He hooked my phone up to the computer and downloaded the message onto the computer. He then emailed the message to Morelli. That done, he phoned Morelli and warned him that the message was coming in. They arranged that Morelli would call back once he had the chance to listen to it.

A few minutes later Morelli called. Ranger put it on speakerphone.

"That bastard!" Morelli exclaimed in way of greeting. "Are you okay, Cupcake?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just that Brodie is so angry. I can't get past how angry he is", I said.

"That's why he was in trouble in the first place, Babe. He has anger management issues. We have known that from the beginning. That's not the problem. The problem is now he seems to have focused his anger on you."

"And on anyone who stands in his way. Don't forget he threatened you again", I said.

"No, what he wants is to kill you", Morelli said. "He has mentioned that several times. Adding in the power play and anger issues associated with rape, and it seems like he is starting to get unhinged. He will make a mistake soon and we will be there to capture him. I think, Cupcake, we need to stay the course. I am sure Ranger has already told you that. This last message doesn't change anything. Other than me opening another bottle of Rolaids."

"How is your Rolaids' consumption going?" I asked.

"You should have bought stock in the company. You could have been rich", Morelli answered. I smiled. Ranger took the phone off speaker and handed the phone to me. He turned on the ball game quietly in the background.

"I wish I was there with you right now", Morelli said. "Bob misses you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just tired of all this."

"What did you do today?"

"I researched a company and some of their employees for the first part of the afternoon, and then Ranger had me in training for the remainder of the afternoon. We practiced in the shooting range for an hour, and then I was learning how to beat Ranger up for an hour. He said we will do it again tomorrow. But tomorrow I will learn how to get out of holds when I am lying on the ground."

"I appreciate Ranger taking care of you like this."

"Yeah, well, you had better behave the next time we are together or I'll know how to hurt you", I said with a smile.

I heard an answering chuckle. Bob started to bark in the background. "I think Bob sees a cat or something out the back window. I should go. I love you. Have a good sleep. And whatever you do, be careful."

"You, too." I said before I hung up. I couldn't do it. I still had trouble saying the "L" word. I can acknowledge it in my head, but saying it out loud, especially with an audience, somehow seems wrong. It wasn't something I ever heard when I was growing up. It was more just accepted. We never had any need to say it. We never questioned it. So to say it now was just awkward. My reticence wasn't really fair to Morelli. He doesn't seem to have much of a problem saying it. But I do.

I phoned my parents and grandmother. I had not talked to them for a few days, and felt that I should check in with them. My grandmother answered the phone, and put it on speaker. I could hear the ball game in the background. My dad was watching the same game that Ranger had on the TV.

"Have there been any other acts of vandalism?" I asked.

"No. But Edna at the beauty salon saw the graffiti on our house, and she thought it looked like the graffiti on the old railway underpass out near Stark Street", my grandmother said.

"Have you seen anybody who looked suspicious?"

"No. What are you involved in? Are you in danger? I haven't talked to you for days. I thought you were dead", my mom shouted into the phone. She still hadn't figured out how the speakerphone works.

"No, I'm not in danger. I am just busy with trying to find a skip and I am working for Ranger as well."

"So does that mean you can come for dinner tomorrow?" my mom asked.

"No, not tomorrow. I am finding it difficult getting my head above work right now."

"You should take a break. Come for dinner tomorrow. I'll make pineapple upside-down cake."

"Not tomorrow. Morelli and I will come in a few days, okay? I will call you when we are free." I said goodbye and hung up the phone.

Ranger watched the ball game as I sat, leaning against the opposite end of the couch, with my feet in his lap. He massaged my feet, touching my feet with just the right amount of pressure. Not too hard and not too tickly. I tried to read more of my novel before we went to bed, but I wasn't very successful. I just kept thinking about the last phone message, and kept reading the same page over and over again.

By the time we got to bed I was still feeling unsettled and upset. I was trying to hide it, but I was jittery and felt like I was on the edge. I lay in bed stiff as a board, trying to be quiet and to not disturb Ranger, but in actuality I was frantic as I thought about all the people who could be hurt because of me. I curled into a fetal position and wrapped my arms around my middle, trying to control the panic but starting to hyperventilate and take jerky breaths anyway. Ranger reached over and pulled me into him and cuddled me spoon-like. His arm wrapped around my middle and snaked up under my pyjama top to rest with my breast in his hand. "Breathe", he said. "That's all you have to do right now. Just breathe", he whispered as he kissed the top of my head. Slowly, my breathing became more rhythmic, my heartbeat steadied and my muscles relaxed. I finally fell asleep snuggled into Ranger.


	20. Chapter 20

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 12

**Chapter Twenty**

In the middle of the night I woke up, lying on my back, with a nightmare. My head was whipping back and forth on the pillow, I was moaning "no" and tears were streaming down my face. My own cries woke me up. "Shhh", Ranger said, "it's okay", he repeated over and over. He wiped the tears off my face and gathered me up in a hug, nose buried in his chest. He rubbed my back until I started to relax. "Want to tell me about it?"

"Everybody died", I replied.

"It's just a bad dream. You are safe. You are going to be okay."

"I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about everyone else. I don't want anyone hurt. I don't think I could take it if someone got hurt because of me", I said brokenly, starting to get upset again as we spoke.

"No one will get hurt, Babe."

"How can you know that?"

"I just honestly believe it. There is no reason to not believe it. We have threats, yes, but we have eradicated the danger by having you stay here. We will catch Brodie. That's a given. We have to be patient. It will just take a bit of time." He paused, then said "I love you, Babe. I won't let anything happen to you or to anyone you care about."

"You love me?"

"Of course I do. In a non-wedding sort of way." I couldn't say it to Ranger either, but I loved him, too. In an equally uncommitted sort of way. And there was Morelli to think about. He was closer to wanting the whole commitment-white wedding thing, but although I loved him too, I wasn't ready for commitment with him, either. I really did need to figure out my love life soon.

Ranger continued rubbing my back until I was totally relaxed, had given my final sniffle and was sleepy again. Then he gave me a kiss and pulled me tighter to his body. I fell asleep surrounded by the comforting scent of Bulgari Green.

The next morning neither Ranger nor I mentioned the nightmare from the night before. Over breakfast he made arrangements for me to meet him at my desk at three o'clock for another training session in the shooting range and the gym. As we went to leave the apartment Ranger looked at me and said "what did you forget, Babe?"

I looked at him questioningly. I went through the checklist in my head. I was dressed – check, I had both my phones – check, I had brushed my teeth – check. "I give up", I said.

"Your gun, Babe. Remember? If you work for me you have to be wearing one at all times, even on the floor. You never know when you will need one, and I want you comfortable and used to wearing one. It needs to feel like part of your body, so much so that you notice it when it is gone rather than when it is there." Like that will ever happen.

I went to get the gun, getting more comfortable putting on the holster. I joined Ranger in front of the door. "Better?" I asked. Ranger gave a little smile. We left the apartment together to go to work.

Hal and Eduardo were on the floor again at the monitoring stations. Ranger had told me the night before that his expansion plans included adding two new monitoring stations to the control room, to double up the monitoring of client sites as well as the monitoring of Rangeman properties and GPS signals. He said his business was getting big enough that it was difficult for the monitoring staff to look after all the different feeds at the same time. He also said he was planning on selling the Atlanta and Boston offices to his partner, and to buy out his partner in the Trenton and Miami offices. He wanted to keep Trenton because that is where his heart is, and is near his parents' house in Newark. He wants to keep his Miami office because that is where his ex-wife and daughter live. Like me, he was married for about ten minutes in a previous life. Unlike me, he got a daughter out of that union. Although he isn't close to his daughter and is happy that she is close to her mother and stepfather, he feels it is only right that he continues to have some sort of relationship with her. Having an office and crash pad in the Miami area only makes sense.

Hal greeted me as I walked to my desk. "Did you receive any further messages from that sicko?" he asked.

"Yes", I replied. "One. He reiterated that he would kill you and that, once everyone was dead, he would kill me. He added in this time that he would rape me before he killed me."

"We will not let that happen", he replied.

"That's what Ranger says. But I'm not worried about me. I am worried about all of you. That's what I'm having nightmares about."

"You worry about you, and we'll worry about us. We are a team. We'll get through this together", he said. Eduardo nodded his head in agreement. Apparently the entire Rangeman staff knew of my troubles.

I sat down at the research desk, plugged in my earphones, cued up Songza and selected '80's music suited for the workday, and pulled up the company search I started the day before. I continued the investigation into the company and the employees, highlighting that the accountant had been suspected of money laundering in the past. All the other employees looked clean. Finishing the file, I started a company search on a third company for Ranger before getting myself a coffee. When I was in the break room I ran into Tank. "I heard we will be doing some sparring", he said. I looked at him, intimidated, trying to imagine how I would ever be able to take down Tank.

"Yeah", I said. "Although I think that will be a long way away. I'm not very good at protecting myself."

"I've seen you in action", he said. "Remember when you attacked that terrorist in the parking garage? You are pretty good when you are riled up. It's just that you could be better. You need to know how to fight when you aren't riled up and when you are frozen with fear. It needs to become second nature with you. Don't worry. You'll get there. By the sounds of it, it won't be long before we are sparring together."

Wow. Two big speeches from Tank two days in a row.

"Did you tell the staff to be on high alert?" I asked.

"Yes, I told them yesterday. Ranger said you got another message last night."

"Yeah. It threatened Rangeman staff and Morelli again. I hate having him threaten all of you that way."

"Then I guess you know how we feel about him threatening you", he smiled. He came over and gave me a one-arm hug. It felt like I was being hugged by a tree. "You're part of our team, Steph. We don't let people mess with our team. We'll get through this." He let me go, picked up his coffee and selected an apple, and left the break room.

I finished running the company search and started running the employee searches. The company research showed this is the fifth company the owners had started. All five companies were the same type. The previous four went bankrupt, apparently due to poor location. The owners chose not to change the location, but rather to stay in the same spot, with each new company. I shook my head. If the company was not able to survive the first four times, how can they not realize that something needs to change in order to survive the fifth time? I noted it down on a sticky note and moved on to the employees. The owners were related to each other. Stepbrothers of some sort. One is an alcoholic. The other has domestic abuse charges against him. The rest of the employees were clean. I noted the oddities and closed the file.

I walked the two completed files down to Ranger and popped them onto his desk. He walked into his office just as I was leaving.

"Have you already had lunch?" he asked.

"Nope. I wanted to get the "Dollar Depot" done before I broke for lunch. I put the two companies that I completed this morning on your desk", I said.

"I haven't had lunch yet either. Do you want to grab some food and meet back here in a couple of minutes?"

"Okay." I went to the staff room and grabbed a turkey, stuffing and cranberry sandwich, a strawberry yogurt parfait and an apple juice. The parfait was the closest thing that I would get to happy food at the Rangeman offices. I was starting to go into dessert withdrawal.

I met Ranger back at his offices. Ranger had a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some crackers, and a pear.

I told Ranger about my impressions on the two companies, and the worrisome tidbits I had found. "See," he said, "this is exactly the sort of thing I want you to pick out of the research. If the person working the research desk is going over the files, and then the project manager goes over the files, the chances of potential problems getting missed are greatly reduced."

"I'm not sure how helpful I am being. You would have picked up these facts yourself."

"Only if I had time to fully read the file. I may have missed it if I only had time to skim it." I thought Ranger was humouring me, but what do I know? He looked pretty serious as he said it.

"Are we still on for three o'clock?" he asked.

"Yup. I live for shooting", I answered.

Ranger gave a little smile. "Liar", he said.

"How could you tell?" I asked, smiling. "I thought I hid my disdain so well."

"Are you getting used to wearing the gun?" Ranger asked.

"Yeah. I almost forget sometimes that it is there."

"That's what we want, Babe. The next step is to remember it enough that you will be able to use it when you need to, much like you would an arm or a leg. They are just a part of you and they aren't part of your consciousness, but when you need them you are able to use them without thinking."

"I don't think I will ever get to that point."

"Don't sell yourself short. You are a fast learner and you have a good survival instinct. You may not ever be as comfortable with a gun as I am, but I want you to be a better shot than Lula is." A few months ago Lula shot twice at a skip's truck but missed the truck and instead hit Ranger's car with one shot and grazed my arm with the other. Lula is a terrible shot, but quite comfortable with using a gun. In comparison, I don't like guns, recognize that I am a terrible shot, and usually hide mine in my cookie jar. "You don't have to like guns, but in this business you do need to comfortable carrying and using them. How do you like the baby Glock compared to the gun you have?"

"I like it better. It's easier to use and to load, and because it is lighter it wouldn't weigh down my purse as much."

"That will be your gun as long as you work for me, Babe. And you should be carrying it in a holster where you have easy access to it instead of in your bag. You get to keep the holster as long as you work for me as well."

"Aww, you know all the best presents to give a girl." Ranger gave a full-on smile. I looked at him and smiled back. Ranger not smiling is gorgeous and hot. Ranger smiling transcends words. He is a sight to savour.

"I'll get diamonds for you next time. I still hope you will continue to work for me after Brodie is caught. I can even offer you part-time work if you feel you need to continue skip chasing." He pulled me up into a kiss, one hand sliding down my back to rest on my butt, the other pulling the small of my back closer to him until there was little doubt as to what Ranger would like to do at that moment. As the warmth of his hands sunk in, he deepened his kiss. I instinctively leaned into him and my hands pulled his head down further, closer. After a few moments, Ranger pulled back. "As much as I hate to say this, I have to get some more work done before I meet up with you in a couple of hours." He gave me a quick kiss and slid his hand from my butt up to my waist, holding me loosely. He gave me another quick kiss and let me go, picking up his garbage and dishes and starting for the door. "Think about it, okay?" he said, picking up his previous conversation. In my dazed state, I took me a few minutes to figure out what he was talking about.

I left Ranger's office and, after getting rid of my garbage and dishes, walked back to the research desk. I plugged in my earphones and noticed I had another message. I decided I would listen to it with Ranger right before we went to the shooting range. I inputted the name of the last company from the pile Ranger gave me, and started to work again.


	21. Chapter 21

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 8

**Chapter Twenty-One**

At three o'clock Ranger came to pick me up, another box of bullets in his hand. I brought my phone with me. When Ranger looked questioningly at me, I explained that I had received another message but that I had yet to listen to it. Ranger and I headed back to his office.

"Cue it up", he said. He waited while I accessed my voicemail and put the phone on speaker. There were two messages. The first was from a charity asking for donations.

The second was from Brodie. "Steph-an-nie," he said, "I wish I could talk to you. I'd tell you exactly what I will do to you before I kill you. You think you have all the power now by hiding out from me. You keep on thinking that, because when I fuck you and kill all your friends in front of you, you will know who really has all the power."

I took this message much better than I had the previous messages. True, he sounded just as angry and he still spoke of killing my friends. But I was starting to become immune to his threats. They were the same old thing, over and over. I was more angry than upset over this one. I had had enough and I refused to be a victim any longer.

Ranger downloaded the message into his computer and emailed the sound file to Morelli with the message that we wouldn't be available to talk about it as we were going into training.

Ranger picked up the box of bullets again, and brought a file off the top of his desk. We headed down to the shooting range. "How are you feeling after that message?" Ranger asked me.

"Angry. Ready to shoot something."

Ranger took out a paper from the file and put it on the head portion of the target we were using. It was a picture of Brodie's head. "This is Brodie", he said. "We will not work on drawing your gun or loading it today. Today we will just shoot Brodie. I want you to pretend he has pulled a gun on you and is threatening to shoot you. And I want you to shoot him first. You need to shoot him in the chest. Let's see you do it."

I was so angry. I took five shots, hitting him in the chest twice and once in the arm.

"Good. Again", Ranger said.

By the time our hour was up I was able to get two-thirds of my shots in his chest. Ranger was happy with my progress, but I was still too angry to be pleased.

We went up to the gym. Knowing I would get hot, I took off my gun and holster, and stripped down to my sports bra and my yoga pants. Ranger grabbed a remote and pressed a button to scramble the security feed. "The guys in the control room don't need to see you work out, Babe", he said in way of explanation. "They wouldn't get any work done. The building could burn down and they wouldn't notice. They would be too busy watching you."

Ranger slipped off his sweatshirt and followed me onto the mats. He went over some of the holds and releases from the previous day, followed by some new moves where he held me on the ground. These "rape scene" holds got me especially angry, but also especially scared when I realized I was overpowered. Patiently, Ranger showed me how to get out of each hold. "Remember, these are just tools to have in your back pocket", he said. "They are so you know you have options other than talking to someone or kicking them in the nuts. If you are in a threatening situation I expect you to use all the tools you can." Only when I was successfully able to get out of each one would he let me finish fighting for the day.

It was dinnertime by the time we finished training. Ella had left us a creole chicken, sausage and rice casserole in the oven, with fresh bread in the warming drawer and a tossed green salad in the fridge. I took a quick hot shower before dinner, climbing into my pyjamas and deciding to let my hair air dry.

"How did you feel about training today?" Ranger asked as we ate dinner.

"Better. I'm not so angry anymore."

"Good. But don't lose all that anger. Anger can be good as long as it is channelled properly. It can power you up and make you sharper, make it easier to make decisions. If nothing else, it stops you from feeling like a victim. And that's a good thing." He took a minute to cut a piece of chicken, then continued. "I phoned Morelli while you were in the shower. We talked about the last message. He agrees with me that, as the airline supervisor said, he seems to be concentrating his anger on women. Hence his growing focus on rape. You just happen to be the symbolic woman he has chosen to punish."

"Lucky me."

"Lucky in some ways. You have the resources to fight back. If it was just anybody he had focussed on, that woman would likely be dead now. But you have a whole team of professionals who will make sure that doesn't happen to you." I yawned. "Are you tired?" he asked.

"Yeah. I actually can't believe how tired I am. It is still a couple of hours until bedtime."

"I'm not surprised. You haven't been sleeping well and you've been working hard in training. Why don't you go phone Morelli while I clean up dinner? After you're off the phone I'll give you a massage again, and you can go right to sleep for the night from there."

After dinner I fed Rex some hamster crunchies and a piece of celery from the salad. I changed his water and then went into the office to sit on the couch and phone Morelli.

"I hear that you're having trouble sleeping. You're having nightmares?" Morelli said.

"Ranger has a big mouth. I'm fine."

Morelli sounded a bit peeved. "Downplay what you are feeling with your family, Cupcake, even downplay it with the bonds office staff and your other friends. But never be afraid to tell me how you truly feel. I want to know."

"You can't do anything about it. Nobody can, so what's the point in getting you upset?"

"I can listen. I want to know when you are scared and when you are upset and when you are angry, just as much as I want to know when you are happy. It's part of the boyfriend code", he said. I could hear his smile over the phone.

"Well, okay. I've been really upset, worried that everyone would die. But today I moved from terror to anger. Ranger put Brodie's picture up on a target in the shooting range, and by the end of the practice I had two-thirds of my shots in his chest. Ranger was pleased, but I was still really angry. Ranger took the brunt of that anger at the gym. He taught me how to get out of some holds more like how I would be held if I was being raped. We worked out for almost two hours. I am sore all over and tired."

"Take ibuprofen before you go to bed or you will seize up in the morning. How do you feel emotionally now?"

"Not nearly so angry. I'm too tired to be angry." I yawned. "But I don't feel quite like a victim, either. A little bit, maybe? But mostly just tired and spent. Flat. Like I have used up my quota of emotions for a while. How about you? How was your day?"

"Frustrating. I searched for Brodie today. I had uniforms helping me go door to door to question everybody in the area around the Rangeman office. There were some people who were either not answering their door or who weren't home. Of the people who answered their door, no one had seen Brodie. So either he's not there or someone is lying. I suspect it's that someone is lying. I am running all of the residents I spoke with against any of our known facts about Brodie – where he works, where he grew up, where he went to school, etcetera – to see if there are any commonalities. So far I haven't found anything, but it will take a while. I haven't given up looking yet."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks. You could say I am especially motivated to catch this guy. I miss you. Bob misses you, too."

"Is he glad to have his couch back?"

"Oh, yeah. And I'm glad to have my bed back. But it's lonely without you. Book some time at my place when you come out of protection, okay? Maybe I can take a couple of days off and we can spend them together. We'll see. I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

We talked for a couple of minutes more before I told Morelli that I was going to bed. I stiffly got up to put the phone back in its charging station. Ranger came into the office just in time to hear me softly groan as I moved.

"Come on," he said, "I think I promised you a rub-down." He grabbed my hand and led me into the bedroom. He helped me strip down to my underwear and went to get the body lotion while I lay down on my stomach on the bed. Ranger started with kneading my neck and shoulders and took his time working his way down my body. I was sound asleep before he got to my legs.


	22. Chapter 22

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 25

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

The next morning the alarm went off at five thirty. Ranger set it early, wanting to have a work out before the day got started. I barely woke up, just registering that he had left the bed before I fell back to sleep. Two hours later, freshly showered and with coffee in hand, Ranger woke me up for the day. "Get up, sleepyhead. It's time for breakfast." I growled. Ranger pulled me into a sitting position and pressed the coffee cup into my hands.

"Bless you", I mumbled. I pried my eyes open.

"I take it you slept well last night?"

"I think I'm still sleeping."

"Well, wake up because the day has started." Ranger took my hand and tugged me out of bed, pulling me towards the kitchen. "Ella made Denver scrambled eggs this morning for breakfast. They are one of my favourites. They have ham, cheese, peppers and onions mixed into the eggs. You'll like them."

We sat down at the breakfast bar, and I helped myself to some toast from the bread basket. As I buttered the toast, the coffee started the neurons firing and I slowly woke up. "What do you have to do today?" I asked Ranger.

"I have two accounts that I am currently reviewing. We have had them for a while, and I need to go over the accounts to make sure they are still as secure as they were the first day we put the systems in place. There have been changes to the way crime is being committed. There is a lot more computer crime than when I first put the systems in, so I want to make sure the systems still meet the security needed by the companies. Then, we have the shooting range booked at two o'clock instead of three o'clock today. At three o'clock we will meet Tank in the gym for some sparring. We will then quit for the day a little earlier so you have time for a massage before dinner. I felt bad pushing you through dinner last night. You really stiffened up. How do you feel today?"

"Stiff, but nothing I can't handle."

"Take some ibuprofen. It's still on the kitchen counter from the other day."

"I'm worried about sparring with Tank. He's so big. And what happens if I get lucky and actually hurt him?"

"That will be his problem. Tank doesn't get hurt easily. If he gets hurt it will be because he wasn't fast enough and that would be good learning for Tank as well."

I ate my eggs. They were really good.

"I won't be able to wait for you to have your shower this morning before I go downstairs. Don't forget to wear your gun when you get dressed."

"Would I forget?" I asked, smiling.

"Only every day so far", Ranger said, shaking his head. He got up and finished up in the bathroom before giving me a kiss and leaving for the day. I poured myself a second cup of coffee and finished my eggs and toast. I piled the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and went into the bathroom for my shower and to get ready for the day. Getting dressed, I decided to wear my Rangeman fatigues with the belt holster in addition to my Rangeman t-shirt and hoody. I took my phones and keys with me, locking up after myself, and went down to the research desk to start my work for the day.

As I went into the control room, saying hi to Hal and Eduardo, Eduardo nodded to me and Hal gave me a big smile and said "hi".

"Have you received any more messages from that guy?" he asked.

"Daily, at least once. Yesterday's message again was that he would kill everyone and rape me. He keeps saying the same sort of things over and over again. At least he has developed some consistency. At first the messages were all over the place. He has become a lot more focussed over the last few days."

"I guess that is a good thing", Hal said. "At least you know what he wants to do and you can prepare for that. Ranger can give you some pointers on what to do if this guy is able to get you into a rape position, for example."

"We were working on that yesterday. Today I will spar with Tank and Ranger will watch and give pointers."

"I know you are probably covered with Ranger and Tank, but if you ever want anyone else to spar with I would be happy to help."

I thanked Hal and went back to the research desk. There were four new files on my desk. I looked – all of them were from Sales. Since I had finished all of Ranger's files the day before, I moved on to Tank's requests. His requests weren't for new accounts but rather on individual employees in existing accounts. In most cases these were new employees the existing company was thinking about hiring. Tank had three requests. I was able to complete all of Tank's requests within an hour. I picked up the files and walked them back to Tank's office, grabbing a cup of coffee on the way.

"I heard that I'm going to spar with you this afternoon", he said when I popped in his office.

"I'm worried I might actually connect for once and hurt you."

"If you hurt me, I will deserve it for not jumping out of the way fast enough."

I smiled. "That's what Ranger said. But I still worry anyway."

Tank smiled. "Look, when I was in Special Forces I was captured and tortured. If I can survive that, I can survive you beating me up."

"But you don't understand. My signature move is to kick a guy in his nuts."

"Thanks for warning me. I will make sure to keep you in a nuts-free zone and I'll wear a jock. Trust me, I've been kicked before and I will be kicked again at some point. It's very uncomfortable, but it will not kill me."

"Okay, tough guy. I will try my best to hurt you. Here are your files." I started to walk out the door.

"Steph? It will be worth getting kicked to have someone working the research desk again. Thanks for the files."

I was able to finish the research requests made by Operations by lunchtime. Most of those requests were short requests, much like Tank's requests had been. I distributed the files to the requesting parties before heading to the break room and grabbing a tuna salad sandwich, a small container of baby carrots and dip, and a cranberry juice. I sat in the break room to eat my lunch. Miguel came in to select his lunch, and brought it over to my table to eat with me. "How is the research desk going?" he asked.

"It's okay. I miss being out and about though, but seeing how I am currently sequestered in the building it is keeping me from going insane."

"I missed being out and about, too. There is no natural light in the research area. Even the overhead lights are dim for the guys in the control room. And it is as quiet as a tomb in there. It gets to you after a while. At least, it got to me. I am so glad you came to join the company. I can't tell you how much I hope you stay."

"Thanks. I'm still not sure if I will stay. I don't want to make any decisions while my life is in upheaval like this. I guess I will stay at least on a part-time basis for a couple of weeks after I go home. I can't be full time as I have a number of outstanding skips I have to catch for Vinnie. I don't know. I'm not really thinking beyond the here and now."

"I don't blame you. Look, I heard you will be sparring with Tank today. If you ever need a sparring partner, let me know. I would be happy to help."

"Thanks, I will keep that in mind."

I went back to my desk with the rest of my cranberry juice and started on the files for Sales. These files were largely corporations. Research primarily centres on the details of the corporation so that Sales can make a more focussed and accurate pitch to potential clients. I finished doing the first search by one thirty.

Instead of starting a new file, I got out my phone and listened to my messages. There were three messages since I last accessed my voice mail yesterday afternoon. The first message was "Steph-an-nie. I am getting tired of waiting for you. You will not like it if I have to come after you. Remember that it is your fault when your friends die." The second message was a message trying to get me to subscribe to a new credit card company. The third message was a very angry-sounding "Steph-an-nie. I want you to come out to play. Perhaps if your grandmother or mother were here would you come out? I could show them what I want to do with you. Do you think they would like it? See you soon." I snatched up my phone and went running into Ranger's office.

"Ranger?" I said, shaking so hard I could barely get the words out.

"Babe?" he asked, looking up from his computer. He took one glance at my face and got up to guide me into a seat. He took the phone out of my shaking hand and placed it on the desk. Getting down on his haunches, he took hold of both my hands in his and looked me in the eyes. "What is the message this time?" he asked quietly.

"He is th-th-threatening my mother and gr-gr-grandmother. He says that he is g-g-going to show them what he w-w-wants to do to me." I took a couple of big gulps of air as I tried to keep the panic at bay.

Ranger continued to hold my hands, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of them, giving me a few minutes to get myself under control. After a few minutes of quiet he asked whether he could listen to the message. I accessed my voicemail and hit play. The messages didn't sound any less sinister the second time around than they did the first.

"I think we need to call Morelli right away about this. At the very least there needs to be greater police presence in your parents' neighbourhood." Ranger called Morelli's cell phone and while he was waiting for Morelli to pick up the phone, he turned Brodie's message into a sound file to email to Morelli. We got Morelli's voicemail. Ranger left a message saying that I had another message on the phone, and that Morelli was to call right away.

We next tried my parents' house. My mom picked up the phone.

"Hi, Mom, is Grandma there with you?"

"No, she's at the beauty parlour. There is a viewing tonight that she would like to go to, and she wanted to have her hair done for it. Do you want me to get her to call you?"

"No, I want you to pick her up from the beauty parlour and bring her home. And I want her to not go to the viewing tonight."

"Are you okay? What are you involved in?"

"I am just chasing a skip right now and he doesn't want to come in. He just threatened to hurt either you or Grandma and I don't want to take the chance that he does."

"Why me? Why do I have a daughter who chases people who want to hurt us? Betty Grilenski doesn't have a daughter who endangers her family. Anna Torres doesn't have a daughter who endangers her family. Why do I have a daughter who always endangers her family? They are hiring at the personal products plant, you know. Why can't you get a job there? At least then you wouldn't be in any danger." My eyes filled with tears at the thought that I was responsible for endangering my family.

"We are looking after this, Mom. Morelli is working on this, Ranger is working on this, and I'm working on this. We will solve the problem. But in the meantime you need to reduce your exposure. Pick up Grandma from the beauty salon. Don't let her walk home. Don't stand at the door. Don't answer the door. Keep the door locked. Morelli will probably come by. I will tell him to call first. Look out the window before you open the door up to him. Okay? Can you do that? Because this is really important. And don't let Grandma go to the viewing tonight. If you have problems convincing her, call Morelli and let him talk her out of the viewing. Or call me. Whatever. As long as she doesn't leave the house. Have you noticed anything suspicious around there?"

"No, nothing suspicious."

"Well, stay aware. And stay safe."

I got off the phone before the tears really started to fall. I was terrified. Bone cold terrified. I was trying to control the tears but it seemed that the harder I tried for control the more I cried. Ranger picked me up and put me on his lap, pulling me into his arms as he rubbed my back and let the tears fall.

"This is a nightmare", I sobbed. "I don't really care what he does with me, but he keeps finding people I care about and threatening them. My mother and grandmother are defenceless. I can't protect them when I can barely protect myself. I don't know what to do." Ranger wiped the tears from my face and handed me a box of tissues. "My mother is right. I am a bad daughter. I keep endangering my family. Maybe I should get a job at the personal products plant like my mother keeps suggesting." I wiped my face and blew my nose, then settled down on Ranger's lap again.

"You aren't a bad daughter. It's just you work in an area of society that has a lot of bad people. Most of the time it is controllable. This time it isn't. But you have friends who are willing to help you with it and you will get through it. Besides, you would go completely insane if you had to work on the boxing line. There would be no 'happy food' runs to the Tasty Pastry any time you feel like it."

Ranger was right. That would be a definite negative.

I sat and listened to Ranger's heartbeat, slow and steady, for a few minutes. Feeling calmer, I took another tissue and blew my nose again. "I'm sorry. I interrupted something when I came in", I said.

"No, that's okay. I was just finishing up and was going to come and get you to head down to the shooting range. I have sent the email on to Morelli – we are just waiting for him to call us back. Do you feel up to shooting at the range while we wait?"

"Sure. Do you have some more Brodie faces to put on the targets?"

"Absolutely." Ranger picked up his Brodie face copies and headed into the storeroom to get a box of bullets. I followed him down to the basement. Once in the shooting range, Ranger said we were going to work a bit on drawing the weapon first, since I was wearing a different style of holster. Then, when I was able to draw the weapon smoothly and rapidly, Ranger affixed a Brodie face to a target and sent it down to the far end of the range. "Pretend that it actually is Brodie there. What would you like to do to him?"

"Shoot him", I said.

"Then go ahead. Shoot him. See how many you can get in his chest." I fired a whole clip into the target. We brought the target back up, and saw that about eighty percent of the shots made it into the chest area. "Load up your gun. I will prepare another target. Try again." I fired another clip into the new target. When we got it back up, I saw that most of my shots had made it into the chest area, and that some had even hit the bulls-eye. Ranger retrieved the bullet casing from my first bulls-eye, giving the casing to me for a memento. "One more time", said Ranger, and he handed me the box of bullets so that I could reload. He sent a new target down to the end of the range. I emptied another clip. This time I got all of my shots in the chest area, and I had more in the centre of the bulls-eye. Ranger and I took off our ear and eye protection and looked at the targets. "Pretty good", he said. "I would love to see how you improve on another round, but Tank is waiting for us upstairs."

"You know, I had two or three people offer to help me with my sparring today. I wasn't sure if it was them being nice or whether they just wanted to spar with the only female staff member", I said with a smile.

"I suspect it was a little of both. Were they bothering you?"

"Not at all. I thought it was rather sweet, actually. I suspect their interest might have gone down if they had heard about my signature move, though."

"Your move being sacking them?"

"That's the one", I said cheerfully.

When we got up to the gym Tank was already there. I asked Ranger to try Morelli again. He did, but there was still no answer. Ranger quietly explained to Tank about the last message that I had received, while I stripped down to my sports bra and pants. Tank's eyes grew a little big when he saw me without my shirt on, but I figured it would just give me an advantage. And against Tank I could use all the advantages I could get.

Ranger scrambled the feed on the security cameras again, and then Tank and I went over to the mats and set to work. When we first started I was finding it relatively easy to get out of the holds. Finally I stopped and looked at Tank. "I really appreciate that you are trying not to hurt me. But I will never learn if you make it easy for me to escape. Brodie certainly won't make it easy for me. You told me earlier today it would be okay with you if I hurt you by mistake. Well, I am saying the same thing to you. I'm okay with it if you hurt me by mistake. Because I know you wouldn't do it on purpose."

Tank looked at me for a few moments, then nodded his head. "Okay", he said. He started doing holds again, in earnest this time, with me trying to get free. Sometimes I was successful based on what I had already learned. Other times Ranger interrupted me, and moved my body to show me what I was supposed to be doing, and still others he stopped and demonstrated on Tank himself. We worked out for two hours. By the end I was sweaty, frustrated, and my body hurt, but both Ranger and Tank said that they had noticed an improvement. They were happy. I was too tired to be happy.

I thanked Tank, and then Ranger and I went up to his apartment.

"I'm worried about Morelli. Why isn't he answering his phone?" Putting my worst fears into words, I said "I'm worried Brodie got to him."

"I'm sure he is fine. There are a whole myriad of reasons why he might not be answering his phone. We just have to be patient." He put his hands on my shoulders and started to massage away some of the tension.

"I'm sweaty", I said, and pulled away from him.

"Yeah, and it kind of turns me on."

"Eeuww." Ranger just laughed.

I headed for the shower while Ranger tried Morelli again. Just as I was turning on the water I could hear Ranger connect to Morelli, and start to talk. Feeling appeased, I washed my hair and body using Ranger's signature Bulgari Green scent. I started to relax in the hot water, and my mind started to wander. I was wondering if the Bulgari Green scent stayed on my skin the way that it stayed on Ranger's, when Ranger came into the bathroom. "Morelli was in a meeting all afternoon and wasn't able to take our calls. He has now listened to the sound file and has said he will take Bob over to your parents' house to sleep there tonight. He has already talked to your mom and grandmother, and they know he is coming. He said he will also be there for dinner and that you owe him one."

I turned off the water and grabbed a towel, drying myself as I got out of the shower. Ranger was standing right there watching, a half smile on his face. "Do you mind?" I asked.

"Not at all. Are you getting shy?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he asked, grabbing another towel and turning me around to dry off my back.

"Because I'm not pulled together. I look like a drowned rat." I tied my towel above my breasts and turned around again.

"Do you think I really care about you looking like a drowned rat?" he said. "You're beautiful, even when you are soaking wet or sweaty. Now are you ready for that massage?" He grabbed the bottle of body lotion off the counter and walked towards the bedroom.

"I'll be out in a couple of minutes", I said. A couple of minutes later, my wet hair combed and my underwear on, I walked into the bedroom and lay down, face first, on the bed, moving my wet hair to the side of my neck to give Ranger greater access. Ranger squirted some body lotion into his hands and rubbed his hands together to warm the lotion before he started to massage my neck. "What area of your body is the most sore?" he asked as he started to knead the muscles.

"Ohmygod – that feels good. I don't know – probably my neck, shoulders and back. But I think my neck and shoulders are sore from the tension from the phone calls rather than the grappling with Tank. But in sparring with you and Tank I was using my back a lot, whether I was twisting it or pulling it. So I guess my back is stiff from the work outs."

"How do you feel about the threats now?" I could feel my muscles start to tense up again in reaction to that question. Ranger just massaged deeper to work out the kinks.

"I'm still pretty worried about my family", I said. "Whether you are a relation by blood or a relation by being my friend, you are all in my family. Or, how I define family, anyway. And family is everything to me. I don't really care about the threat to rape me anymore. But I do care about the threat to rape my mother and grandmother. Just like I don't really care about the threat to kill me. But I do care about the threat to kill you and Morelli. He knows what buttons to push and he is having fun pushing them."

"Now that Morelli is staying with your family and protecting them, you should be able to relax a bit more here. Even before this last threat, I know you were worried about them."

"How did you know?" I asked.

"You talk in your sleep."

"That's worrisome." I paused. "Yeah, it didn't really take me by surprise that he threatened my mom and grandmother. I just thought he would do one of his blanket 'I will kill them' statements though, rather than threatening them with rape. And no matter how much I was expecting it, the terror still took me by surprise."

Ranger finished my neck, shoulders and arms and was working his way down my back. My muscles felt like they had liquefied under his touch and I was struggling to stay awake. He noticed. "Go to sleep", he said. "Dinner will be in an hour. I will wake you up then", and he continued massaging my back until I slipped into dreamland.

For dinner Ella made pork roast with a mushroom gravy and sweet potatoes and green beans. I set the table and put out the dishes while Ranger opened a bottle of chilled white wine and poured glasses. Dinner was delicious. And even better - Ella included dessert. It was a small fruit flan with a single birthday candle in it.

"Whose birthday is it?" I asked.

"Mine."

"It's your birthday? Happy birthday. Now I feel bad. I didn't get you anything."

"You don't have to get me anything. Just you being here makes it special."

"Yeah, but me being here has gotten in the way of you celebrating. What would you have been doing if I wasn't here?"

"Nothing special. Probably eating dinner alone. My parents will have a birthday celebration for me in a few weeks. The extended family usually gets together once around each change in season and has a group celebration. I talked to my family this morning, though. And Julie called while you were in the shower." Julie is Ranger's teenaged daughter. "My friends are all over the world, so I wouldn't be spending the evening with them. They all sent wishes by email. So you being here for dinner definitely makes it special."

"Well, I'm glad I could be here then." Privately I thought it was pretty sad that Ranger didn't have plans. He was such a special guy and he was so alone. I can see why Ella was worried about him. I decided I would give him a belated birthday present. I just had to come up with the perfect gift. I tried to think about what such a gift could be, but I couldn't come up with anything.

"How's Julie?"

"Well. She seems to really be enjoying school and is quite involved in the extra-curricular activities the school offers. Her mother says she is doing well. I don't really know Julie that well, so I don't have much to talk to her about. Our conversations are usually pretty short."

I cleaned up our empty plates before getting a lighter and lighting the candle. Then I sang "Happy Birthday" to him and waited until he blew the candle out. I gave a serving knife and a couple of plates to him, and sat back down at the table. "Did you make a wish? Because you always have to make a wish" I said.

"I did."

"Good. I won't even ask you what your wish is about, because that will stop it from coming true."

"It involves you."

"Oh, my. Is this something that will cause Morelli grief?"

"If he knew."

"Is this something I would like, too?" I asked.

"Definitely."

Oh boy.

After eating our dessert, I sent Ranger to the couch while I cleaned up the kitchen. I gave Rex the piece of green bean I had saved from dinner and topped up his water. He still had hamster crunchies left from yesterday. "It is Ranger's birthday", I told Rex. "I should do something nice for him. I know what I want to do, but that would upset Morelli. But it would be birthday sex, and does birthday sex even count as cheating? I don't know." Rex didn't seem to know either. "Good thing my period finished earlier today. Just in case."

I went to join Ranger on the couch, cuddling into his side. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer, brushing the hair off my temple to kiss me. His hand came up to cup my breast and his thumb started to rub back and forth across my nipple. Heat went shooting down to my belly and my toes curled. I arched into the caress. Ranger twisted so that we switched positions and I lay on the couch and he lay on top of me. He started to kiss me. I instinctively pulled him closer. When he added some tongue I was lost. By the time Ranger carried me to bed I had completely forgotten about Morelli.

The first time was fast. When we were finished I curled onto my side, ready to go to sleep. "Not done yet", Ranger said, and flipped me onto my stomach. "I've been wanting to do this ever since I started giving you massages." He started to follow the path that he had taken when he was massaging my muscles, but this time he travelled the path with his lips. He kissed his way down and …

Oh boy.


	23. Chapter 23

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 9

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

The next day the alarm went off at five thirty again. I don't know how many times we had made love through the night. I lost count at four. I was sleepy as a result, thinking that if I never made love again I would still die happy. Ranger kissed me awake, then began the assault upon my senses all over once more. I had forgotten how much Ranger liked to kiss – everywhere. When the alarm went off again, we were cuddled together, heart rates steadying. With a final kiss Ranger whispered "go to sleep", and got out of bed. He covered me up and went to have a shower. I was asleep again before the water started to run.

An hour later the smell of coffee woke me up. As I sat up, Ranger handed me a cup.

It was a little awkward. I guess mornings-after usually are. The awkwardness was compounded by the fact that I have a boyfriend, as vague an understanding as it may be between Morelli and me. I comforted myself with the fact that it was birthday sex. Birthday sex shouldn't count as cheating, I told myself. But the problem was that it didn't feel like just birthday sex. It felt like something more, and I liked it. I didn't want it to stop, Morelli be damned. My traditional Catholic upbringing said this type of sleeping around was wrong. I was conflicted and I wasn't feeling very good about myself.

"Oh, oh. Morning after?" Ranger questioned.

"Yeah. They suck, don't they? You can have the best night of your life and the next day reality has to kick in."

"That was the best night of your life?"

"Yeah. It was." Ranger smiled. "But reality says that I still have a boyfriend", I stated.

"Nothing changes between us. I will still take anything you give me, and I will still continue trying. I will leave it up to you to set the limits. I'll respect those limits, but I will leave them up to you." And that is the problem. I'm not very good on setting limits.

Ranger and I suited up for the day, me looking at Ranger with a squishy feeling in my stomach. Ranger was focussed, concentrating on the day ahead and on Brodie's takedown.

"You will be working the desk in the control room with Rafael again. Morelli still has his earbud and vest, so he doesn't need to come in to get ready." I sighed in relief. "We are meeting the team in the storeroom in fifteen minutes, so you need to hustle up. In forty-five minutes we should all be in place. If Brodie is on time, we will be there two hours prior to his appointment."

We left the apartment and went down to the storeroom. The rest of the team was already there. Tank took one look at Ranger's face, smiled and handed him a bullet-proof vest. "I think you will need this", he said. I wasn't sure if he meant for the job or for Morelli. Ranger did look particularly relaxed.

Tank handed earbuds to everyone and we all left to go to our positions. I walked down to the parking garage with Tank, Hal and Ranger. Tank and Hal got in fleet cars and staggered leaving the garage. Ranger pulled me into a corner and put his hand under my shirt to rest upon my breast. He gave me a kiss that quickly deepened and started to spiral out of control. "It was the best night of my life, as well", he said. "I just want you to know that." And with a final kiss he got into a fleet car and drove away.

I went back up to the control room to assume my position. At nine o'clock we did a sound test. Everybody was in place and on line. By the time eleven o'clock had arrived everyone was starting to get fidgety.

On the monitor Rafael and I saw a masked man enter Reception. He brought up his gun and shot Ralph in the abdomen. "Steph-an-nie", he yelled. "Your friend here is still alive. I will shoot him in the heart if you don't come down here. I am tired of waiting for you." Rafael started feeding the situation through the earbuds for the rest of the team. I got up and ran to the storeroom. I stripped down to my sports bra and put a Kevlar vest on. I put my shirt back on over top of the vest. I took my gun out and made sure it had bullets in it. Then, walking through the control room to get to the stairs, I told everyone that I was going in. "I will not have anyone die because of me", I said. I ignored it when Morelli and Ranger told me to stand down. "I can't. He's fucking with my family", I said. I was terrified and angry at the same time, but I wasn't letting them deter me from what I had decided to do. I told them they could either stop ordering me around, or I would take my earbud out and they wouldn't be able to hear a thing.

By the time I had finished arguing with Ranger and Morelli I was at the lobby door, and I could hear Brodie calling me. "Come out, come out, wherever you are", he sang. I heard another gun shot and then silence. I could hear Rafael in my ear, explaining to the other members of the team that it appeared that Ralph was shot again, based on what he could see in the security feed.

I opened the door and walked out into the lobby, gun drawn and ready. "You wanted me. Here I am."

Brodie moved his gun from pointing at Ralph to pointing at me.

"What do you want to do with me?" I asked. I glanced over at Ralph. He was passed out cold, but I couldn't see any blood.

"I'll fuck you, and then I'll kill you."

"Why?"

"Because you are like all other females. Always telling me what to do. Telling me where to go. But this time I am taking charge. I will make sure you never tell me what to do again. This is your fault I will kill you. If you just had left me alone, this wouldn't have happened." He started walking towards me.

"Stop and put your gun down", I said.

"No, you put your gun down or I will shoot", he said, pointing his gun at Ralph again. I couldn't take the threat any longer. I shot him, aiming for his shoulder. I hit his gun arm. Close enough, I thought. He let out a cry and dropped his gun, lunging for me instead. He was able to get me in a hold before I could react. I started to fight, biting, gouging, scraping, kicking, hitting. I twisted loose before he could choke me, but was yanked back by my ponytail before I could get to my gun. I off balanced and fell to the floor, Brodie on top of me. Using the new moves Ranger and Tank had shown me the day before, I was able to overpower Brodie. I was sitting on him, holding his arms and legs down as he tried to buck me off, as Ranger came flying in, closely followed by Tank, guns drawn. Ranger kicked away Brodie's and my guns and Tank cuffed Brodie, "accidently" kicking him a few times in the process. Ranger helped me up off the ground. "You're safe", he said thankfully, and checked me all over for damage. He pulled me into a hug and kissed my temple. "Do you need an EMT?"

"No, not me. But Brodie shot Ralph at least twice in the chest and once in the abdomen, and I shot Brodie in the arm." I started to shake in reaction.

Ranger left me to go check on Ralph, who was just coming around. "He's good", Ranger said. "All my staff working Reception are required to wear Kevlar. At most he has a broken rib and a lot of bruising."

"Good job", he said to Ralph. "Rafael has called an EMT for you. They should be here in a few minutes."

I watched Tank take Brodie out to the car and shackle him to the floor bolts. I was shaking and could not get warm. I was still reeling from the shock of it all, and the fact that it was over hadn't yet hit me. Ranger came over to me and took off his hoody, putting it on me, rubbing my arms to try to warm me up.

Morelli came running in and pulled me into a hard hug. "This is why I'm getting an ulcer", he said. "It's you doing stupid things. You just don't think."

"It all ended well though", I said. "And I couldn't let him mess with my family. If I can stop that, then I will do what it takes to stop it. You would do the same thing."

"Rangeman isn't your family. Your real family was in danger because of you. This is you being selfish, always wanting to have it your own way, not willing to take yourself out of danger by getting a new job. And at some point you will have to choose – me and your family, or your job. Because I don't think you can have both. I don't think I can keep living through nightmares like this." Morelli, stomping around in a circle and flapping his arms, was starting to yell. "And don't bring me into this. I am a cop. It is my job to protect people." I started to shake harder.

Ranger looked at Morelli and said "you may want to step away and do that job before you say something you regret."

"I won't regret this", Morelli answered. "This has been a long time in coming."

"So what are you saying then? We're through?" I asked.

"It's your choice, Cupcake. That's my line in the sand. I can't keep living through this. I want to get married and have a normal life. Not live separately and have an insane life."

"Go do your cop thing", I said. "It's what you do best anyway." I started to walk towards the elevator. "You don't need me. The security cameras caught everything on tape. I hurt. I'm cold. I am going up to have a hot shower." The Rangeman staff all stood and watched me as I limped out of the lobby.


	24. Chapter 24

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 3

**Chapter Twenty-Four **

An hour later I'd had a long, hot shower. I was still shaking and I thought I would never warm up again. I wasn't sure why I was still shaking. I had won the fight with Brodie and no one was seriously hurt. The fight with Morelli was horrible, though. The fight itself was an old one and one we often have in reaction to me being in danger. I was mortified that this time it was witnessed by Rangeman staff.

I didn't know what to do following my shower. I felt stunned and my brain felt frozen, incapable of thought. I went to the closet and packed my bag and got ready to go back to my own apartment. I was sure I would start feeling again soon and since I didn't think it would be pretty, I wanted to be in my own home when I did.

Ranger came up to the apartment carrying a couple of sandwiches and some cut vegetables and dip from the break room. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking me over to the breakfast bar and handing me some lunch.

"Yeah. I think I am still in shock", I said. "I feel sort of numb."

"I notice your bag is at the front door. Is this it, then? Are you going back to your own place?"

"I think it's time. I want to be at my own place before the shock wears off. It's nice here, but it's not home."

"I understand. Do you think it is a good idea, though, to be alone when the numbness wears off?"

"Absolutely. It will be the best thing for me." I was still shaky and just wanted to escape, but I was stuck eating my lunch under Ranger's protective eye. If it was up to me, I would have skipped eating.

"My offer of a job still stands. You can think about it over the next few days while you get your feet back under you."

"Thanks."

Ranger drew me up into a hug, holding me tight as I continued to shake. He rubbed my back, up and down my spine. "You did well today, Babe. I saw the fight on the recording. You did a good job. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

I drew away from him and gave a jerky little nod. "Thanks", I said, embarrassed. I threw out my garbage and went to the door. I picked up my bag and Ranger picked up Rex's cage. We took them down to my car and deposited them on the backseat. When I went to get in the car Ranger drew me back again into his arms. "Call me if you need me, okay, Babe? I can be at your place within ten minutes."

"Okay", I said jerkily. I reached up and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for everything." I got in the car and drove away from the Rangeman building.


	25. Chapter 25

TRIGGER HAPPY TWENTY-THREE: A STEPHANIE PLUM-INSPIRED NOVEL

p. 12

**Chapter Twenty-Five **

By the time I got home the numbness was starting to wear off. I carted my things back into my apartment, saying hi to Mrs. Bestler in the elevator, struggling to be friendly to her.

There was a note in Morelli's handwriting on the counter where Rex's cage normally sits. It said "I'm sorry". I put it aside and went to the bedroom to unpack my things. I listened to my messages on my home phone. There was one message. It was left several days ago. I deleted it before I listened to it. I didn't need to hear any messages from Brodie.

I looked in my purse for my cell phone. I still had the cell phone from Ranger and I put it aside to give back to him the next time I saw him. I took out my own cell phone and checked to see if I had any messages. I had two. Both were from Brodie. The first said "I am coming for you today. Get ready." It was left first thing in the morning, before all the insanity happened. I had just missed the second call by a few minutes. The message said "I got out on bail. I am coming for you. You are going to die now, bitch." I had to put the phone down on the counter my hand was shaking so hard. I went to the windows and, staying out of the way of the glass, closed the curtains. I then went to my cookie jar to take out my gun, but found that Ranger had got there before me. In my cookie jar was the baby Glock I had been using at Rangeman in addition to my own gun. There was also a box of bullets for the Glock, and a note that said "Use it as long as you need it." I took out the Glock and checked that it was loaded.

Needing happy food, I went to the freezer and took out a half dozen banana-chocolate chip muffins and defrosted them in the microwave. I opened the fridge and took out a diet soft drink, and went and sat on the couch, gun in my lap and the muffin plate on the couch cushion beside me. I ate unthinkingly while my mind struggled to cope with the shock. The telephone rang, and I let the answering machine take it. I could hear the message as Morelli told me that Brodie was out on bail, that he had used a different bondsman, and that he wanted me to be careful. I was frozen. I heard my cell phone ring, followed shortly afterward by Ranger's cell phone. I put the empty muffin plate on the coffee table, brought my knees up to my chin so that I was sitting in a ball facing the door and, loosely holding it, rested my gun on top of my knees. Staring at the door, I sat and waited for Brodie.

I didn't have long to wait. About five minutes later there was a sound at my door. The lock was thrown and the full force of Brodie's weight was thrown against the door to get the security chain to pop. When that didn't work, Brodie put his gun next to the chain and shot it open. He entered the apartment to see me facing him, Glock in hand. "I am going to kill you, bitch" he said. "You shot me. And now you will die." He sighted his gun on me.

I shot him first. I shot him in the chest, right at his heart. Brodie fell on the ground and died in front of me. I was still sitting in a ball on the couch, frozen, staring at Brodie with my gun in my hand, when Ranger got there a couple of minutes later.

Ranger ran in, gun drawn, checked Brodie and pronounced him dead. He came over and took the gun away from me, putting it on the coffee table beside my muffin plate. He picked me up and pulled me onto his lap, taking out his phone as he did so and calling in the shots to Morelli. Then he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly as the shudders started to rip through my body.

Morelli was busy doing his cop thing. Ranger didn't let me out of his sight, even waiting outside the bathroom door as I threw up all the muffins I had eaten. I kept telling him I was okay, but since I couldn't look him in the eyes or stop shaking I don't think he believed me. He sat beside me, his arm around me, as Morelli led me through the questions. Woodenly, I answered him. Finally, it was over. Morelli got up to leave, saying that he had to finish up at the precinct and would be back in a couple of hours. "She won't be here", Ranger said. "I'm bringing her back to my place for a couple of days." Morelli's face turned red as he started to argue. "She shouldn't be alone right now", Ranger broke into his complaints, "and you aren't helping matters."

Morelli took one look at me, still glassy-eyed, in shock and in a dazed silence, and reluctantly nodded his head. "Take care of her", he said. "I'll catch up with her in a few days." He followed the last of the police officers out of the apartment. When silence descended upon the apartment once again, Ranger got up and pulled me off the couch. "Can you pack a bag or do you want me to do it, Babe?" I just stared at him. He pulled me into the bedroom and threw a couple of days' worth of clothing into a bag, then handed it to me. I hadn't yet unpacked my shower bag, so he grabbed that as well and shoved it in the bag with the clothes. He went into the kitchen and picked up Rex's cage, turned off the lights, and led me out the door. He took my keys from my hand and locked the door behind us, then led me out of the building to his car.

"I killed him", I said with a sob, finally breaking my silence. Ranger and I were sitting on the couch after picking at one of Ella's delicious dinners. I was wearing Ranger's sweats again, and was cuddled into Ranger's side, Ranger's arm around me. The shudders started again and great hiccupping sobs erupted. Ranger pulled me into his lap, rubbing my back. "Let it out, Babe", he said soothingly.

"That's the second time I have killed someone. I still have nightmares about the first time. Am I going to have nightmares about this one too?" I asked.

"I can't answer that, Babe. But you can be here for as long as you want and I will catch you if you start to fall. The whole Rangeman team is behind you. And I know Morelli wants to be there for you as well. You have people who care about you and we will help you through this." He paused, then said "you know he would have killed you, don't you? It's not your fault he is dead. It's just that you were faster with your gun than him."

"It seems like such a waste. He was once a baby, looked after with love by his parents. He grew up, went to school, had girlfriends, friends, family, a job. And now he's dead. And it's all my fault."

"It is _not_ your fault. You didn't threaten his family and friends, shoot at him, leave threatening messages, make him go into hiding. That was all him, doing that to you. You didn't go to his apartment with a gun, threatening him. But he did that to you. You were just protecting yourself. This is not your fault."

"Maybe if I hadn't had a gun, I could have talked to him."

"No. If you hadn't had a gun you would be dead. You wouldn't be talking to anyone."

"But I didn't even try to talk to him. I just shot him."

"You tried to talk to him earlier in the day. I heard you in my earbud. I caught it on the security camera. You tried whatever you could to neutralize the situation without hurting him. Do you want to see the tape?"

"Maybe tomorrow. I can't really remember what happened."

"Okay, tomorrow. I think it would be a really good idea for you to see it. And when you watch it, be objective. Think about what you would say to me, say, if I was in your shoes."

"But you wouldn't be in my shoes. It wouldn't bother you like this."

"Do you think not? Just because I have killed more people doesn't mean that it doesn't bother me. It always bothers me, and I'm glad it does. It means I am human, that I haven't lost my sense of compassion, of human decency. And this is bothering you so much because you are the most compassionate person I have ever met. You will be in for a rough road and that's okay. You'll get through this. Just remember you have a lot of people who love you and care about you, and that you aren't alone."

I lay in Ranger's arms, listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady, and let the rhythm relax me. Gradually the tears stopped, and I fell asleep.

I woke up in Ranger's bed, his arms wrapped around me and his legs intertwined with mine. I vaguely remembered him carrying me to bed the night before, and him taking my socks and pants off. I started to shift away from him, a bit panicked with the remaining edges of a disturbing dream, and he pulled me back into his arms. "Shh", he said. "You're okay. You're safe", and he kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back until I fell back to sleep.

"So, what are you going to do about Morelli?" Ranger asked the next morning over breakfast. Ella had made us hot oatmeal with cinnamon, apples and raisins, and I was spooning up the last of the oatmeal from my bowl.

"I don't know. The argument is one we have had lots of times, although that was the first time we have had witnesses to it. We have always gotten back together again before, but yelling at me in front of witnesses when I really needed support? That was taking our problems a step further than we have ever gone before. I am not sure I can forgive him this time."

"What about his marriage proposal?"

"He always proposes whenever he wants me to quit my job. But he doesn't want to marry me any more than I want to marry him. He loves me, but I can't be the person he wants me to be. I'm not the stay-at-home type. I clean because I have to, most of my laundry is done by my mom, and my idea of cooking is to phone Pino's for a pizza. He doesn't want a wife who is endangered at times. I can understand that. I don't want a husband who works all the time, a husband who can't take time off to go on trips and to be with me. With Morelli, his job always comes first. It's what makes him a good cop and I admire him for that. However, I think it would make him a lousy husband. But right now? He is fun. I'm not sure where it is going, if either of us are even willing to change. I know I want something more, eventually. I have had too much of a traditional upbringing to not. I'm just not sure I want more with him."

"I can understand that", he said, and got up from the table and put his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. With a thoughtful look he finished up in the bathroom before coming over to give me a kiss to the top of my head. "Whenever you are ready, come on down to my office and we will look at the security tape."

After Ranger left the apartment I went and had a long, hot shower, easing out some of the stiffness left behind by the fight with Brodie. I dressed in a Rangeman uniform and one of Ranger's hoodies, and I remembered to put on my gun before I left the apartment. I walked down to Ranger's office and knocked on his open door. Tank was in Ranger's office, sitting in front of his desk. Ranger waved me in. "How are you doing?" Tank asked, worried.

"I'm getting better, thanks", I said. "I am starting to get my feet back on the ground."

"Good. Give yourself time", he said. "It is always a bit of a shock when you kill someone. You just have to remember that it wasn't your fault. That it was self-defence. When you accept that, it is much easier to deal with."

He got out of the chair and left me alone with Ranger, patting my shoulder awkwardly as he walked by.

"Come here", Ranger said. He pulled me onto his lap and hit a few buttons on the computer. He ran the security footage. You could clearly see Brodie shooting Ralph, then me talking to Brodie. You could see him threatening me with a gun, and me not doing anything other than talking. Then, you could see he was going to shoot Ralph again and I shot Brodie. You could see on the tape that Brodie came after me physically and the fight that ensued. And you could see me subduing Brodie. "You could have physically harmed him or killed him at any time. You chose not to. You value human life. Just because he came back at you does not mean anything different. You are still a good person."

My eyes filled with tears. "Thank you", I whispered. I pushed the tears back and stood up. "I've got work I want to get done today. I still have several files for Sales to research".

"You have a new one from me, as well", Ranger said. "Just remember to take it easy on yourself today."

I walked through the control room to get back to the research desk. As I walked past Hal he looked up from the monitors and asked me how I was doing. I gave the same answer I gave Tank. Hal got up and came over to me and gave me a hug. "Just remember it was self-defence", he said. "I saw the security footage. You were amazing." Eduardo nodded his head in agreement.

I walked back to the research desk, pulling out my phone to cue up my playlist. I noticed that I had three messages. The first one was from my mother. "I heard from Ellen Gralenski that you shot a man in your apartment. Why did you have a strange man in your apartment? And why did you have to shoot him? Anna Torres' daughter doesn't shoot strange men in her apartment, so why do you? What is wrong with me that I would have a daughter going around shooting people? And then I tried calling you, and you weren't home. I had to call Joe. I thought you were dead." The second message was from Vinnie. "I heard you killed that mother fucker. I didn't bond him out again after you caught him the first time. Make sure you tell Ranger that. Well, now that you caught Brodie, when are you coming back to work? We have a whole pile of skips here for you to chase. Should I give them to Joyce? Let me know as soon as possible. I'm losing money here. I'm bleeding out. I gave you a job when you most needed it and I need you to help me now. Give me a call." The third message was from Morelli. "I'm sorry, Cupcake. I said some things I shouldn't have said, things I didn't mean. I don't want us to be over. And I'm worried about you. Give me a call when you get this message, okay? I love you."

I picked up the phone and dialled Morelli's number. I waited through three rings before Morelli picked up. "Hi", I said.

Two weeks later, I was back in Ranger's apartment having dinner with him. I handed him a small box, wrapped in shiny birthday paper and with a large red bow on top.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I couldn't get you a present for your birthday, so this is a belated birthday present", I explained.

Ranger held the box like it was the most precious thing in the world. "You didn't have to get me anything. You just being here was a birthday gift in itself", he said.

"I know I didn't have to get you anything. But I wanted to. It's not anything big."

He carefully removed the bow and ripped off the paper. He opened the box and, looking down, started to smile. Inside the box was the bullet casing from my first bulls-eye, made into a key chain. I climbed into his lap and whispered "happy birthday" before I gave him a kiss that rocked his world.


End file.
